#I DID IT THOUGH I MADE THEM FIT I JUST NEEDED TO MAKE THE BUS EXTRA TALL

[kandidandi]

Tour bus design for @kaleidoscopek9 ‘s punk au!

close ups under cut :)

[bloodibambiidoll]

Beer and Bunny’s

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Eddie can’t seem to get himself to make a move on the new bartender at the hideout he has a crush on, but one night you decide to take matters into your own hands and he sees something that he just can’t resist. Wk:4.5K

Warnings: 18+MINDI Smut (unprotected P in V), Oral (M & F), Eddie being a lil pervy but reader is into it, kind of inexperienced!Eddie (he’s really nervous and has a lot of self doubt. My head canon for this Eddie is that he’s been with a few girls but none of them were interested in more than a one night stand), no use of Y/N so pet names, and I think that’s it? The smut is kinda soft n sweet, nothing too crazy. Lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So I was running errands wearing my black mini skirt and my pink bunny panties the other day and this idea came to me. It’s super self indulgent tbh, but in my mind Eddie would lose his shit over something like this and I’ll die on that hill. 🫡 Also I usually read through my shit obsessively but I only read through this once so if you see mistakes, no you didn’t. (Not really tho pls tell me so I can fix them bc typos make me crazy) My Masterlist

Eddie was in a trance, playing his guitar on autopilot as he watched you bus tables, make drinks, and occasionally indulge a customer’s flirting for extra tips. Not that you needed to, that dress and your sweet smile was enough to have any man dumping his wallet out and emptying his bank account for you. Or maybe that was just him.

He knew it wasn’t though, because even though his band was up there putting their hearts into playing for 15 people tops, most of their eyes followed you. Granted it was mostly drunk middle aged men besides Ruth, a 60 something year old woman who was always sitting in the same stool at the bar, drinking the same cheap vodka, with her red lipstick smudged on her teeth. But still, he’s convinced even if the room was filled with a hundred women you’d still be the prettiest one there.

You started working at the hideout a few months ago when you moved to town and ever since then it was like Eddie was possessed by you. He thought about you constantly, the way those cut up band tees always fit so perfectly and how your ass always looked in those tight little skirts has him fisting his cock sometimes twice a night. He wanted to record the way your voice sounded saying his name when you’d bring him his favorite beer after a show without him even asking and play it on a loop over and over again.

But that wasn’t all, he thought about little things like holding your hand, or going to the drive-in and watching horror movies with you. Or just kissing you, god, he wanted to kiss your pretty glossed lips.

The only issue was every time you talked to him it was like his brain turned to mush and everything he had practiced to say disappeared from his mind.

Tonight was different though. After their last song when you came to bring him his beer, you gave him that sweet smile and told him how awesome they did like you always do. But then it happened. You accidentally walked backwards into one of the small amps, tipping it backwards.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry, shit!” You apologized before turning around to pick it up and when you did Eddie felt like he was about to cum in his pants.

You were wearing this tight little faux leather mini dress with a zipper that went all the way down the middle and these sexy calf high combat boots. But when you bent over he saw you were wearing the cutest pink panties that had little bunnies printed all over them and something about that combination made him absolutely feral.

He heard a whistle behind him and when he snapped his head around to see where it came from he saw one of the guys sitting at the table closest to the stage practically licking his lips while he ogled you. He instantly felt possessive and moved closer so he was standing a few inches behind you, blocking you from everyone else.

You pulled the amp up with a huff before turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realized how close he was.

“Holy shit! You scared me!” You brought your hand to your chest and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so close.”

“Y-yeah I’m sorry, when you bent over, you could uh- see your panties and um… people were looking.” He turned beet red and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh, you’re so sweet Eddie, protecting my modesty.” You placed a hand on his forearm and caressed it with your thumb a few times before you stepped close enough to him to whisper in his ear. “Were you looking too?” You pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes through your lashes.

“I- I mean- fuck.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have you were just standing right in front of me and then that guy whistled and-“

“Eddie!!” You squeezed his arm gently to get him to look at you and when he did you just wanted to kiss him. Those big brown eyes all filled with a mixture of lust and guilt were driving you crazy. “It’s okay… I want you to look.”

He’s pretty sure his brain just short circuited, you want him to look? What does that mean?

“I- you want me to- really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You think I dress like this every time I work? Nope. Only on Tuesdays… just for you, Eds.”

“Shit. Really?” He looked at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been dreaming about is really standing here in a sexy little dress telling him that she wore it for him.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip. “I like how you look at me, it makes me… So. Wet.”

He threw his head back and groaned, he never thought you’d be so forward like this.

But he didn’t know that you had been waiting for him to make a move on you for weeks. You were tired of dancing around your obvious attraction to one another so you decided tonight you were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Shit sweetheart. You can’t just say things like that to me in public. You’re seriously going to make me bust in my pants. ”

“Well… don’t do that.” You giggled. “I know somewhere better that you can cum though…” You ran your hand down his arm and linked your hands together causing him to shiver. God, he was so responsive, you knew he liked you but apparently you didn’t know just how much.

“Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Deadly. You have a van, right? What’s the back like? Maybe you can show me.” You winked at him.

“Shit, yeah, I’d love to. But I have to put all this shit in the back and take it back to Gareth’s garage.” He looked so disappointed you just wanted to kiss his pouty pink lips.

“Hmmm… well, I live down the street. What if you drop off your stuff and meet me at my place after?” You suggested.

“GARETH! Take my van to your house, I’ll come get it later.” He turned to his drummer and threw him his keys.

“Dude. Seriously? You’re just going to leave us to pack up all this shit?”

His other band mate, who you think is named Jeff, looked between you and Eddie and put two and two together pretty quickly.

“We’ve got it man, have fun!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him before going back to packing up their equipment.

“Well, it looks like I’m all yours.” Eddie smiled at you nervously. God, he was just too cute.

“Looks like it, cutie. I’m off now, just gotta clock out. I usually walk so if you just wanna wait outside I’ll be right there.” You got on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before jumping off the stage and walking toward the back of the bar, making sure to swing your hips extra for him.

•

The walk back to your apartment was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, hands grazing but not quite grasping onto each other. The air heavy with the tension of what was to come.

“This is me!” You gesture towards the front door of your apartment before unlocking it and letting him inside.

Eddie looked around as you turned on some lights, he saw some cool posters on the walls and a large bookshelf in the corner. But before he could take in too much of your world you walked over to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” You smiled at him with a glint in your eye.

“Hey.” He returned your smile with a crooked smirk, bringing his hands to rest on your hips.

You brought one of your hands to his jaw, cupping it and running your thumb along his cheek. “I really really want to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t respond, instead he pulled you closer by the hips and smashed his lips against yours. His lips felt just as you imagined, pillowy soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He tasted like the beer you gave him, the cigarette he smoked on the walk, and something that was just him. You moaned into the kiss, shoving your hands into his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned when you licked along his bottom lip, allowing you access. He kissed you until your knees were weak and you were both breathless.

“You are so beautiful. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m here right now. This feels like a dream.” He ran his hands up your sides over your dress. “Also this fucking dress… Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah? You like it? It’s new.” You took a step back so you could do a twirl for him. “I thought about you when I bought it, you know…” you brought your finger to the o-ring at the top of the zipper and tugged on it a little.

“I thought about you dragging me to the dingy bar bathroom, shoving me up against the wall and ripping it off me.”

“Holy. Fuck. You’re naughty, huh?” He chuckled.

“Maybe, wanna find out?” You grab his hand and start walking backwards toward your bedroom, dragging him with you.

You plop down on your bed to take your boots off but before you can reach for the laces Eddie walks forward and takes your foot in his hand, unlacing your shoes for you. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them both off your feet and he’s pretty sure you aren’t real at this point.

Your socks are the same pink as your panties with cute little bunny ears at the top of the ankles. Your socks match your panties.

“Yeah, you like these too?” You wiggled your toes in front of his face and giggled while he looked at you and froze, his face turning bright red.

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did. Wanna know if my bra matches too?” You sit back on your hands and stick your chest out.

“Hell yeah I do.” He nodded dumbly.

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out then, pretty boy.”

He didn’t hesitate to lean down and slip his finger into the o-ring zipper of your dress, slowly beginning to slide it down. When the tops of your breasts were exposed it became more and more clear that your bra didn’t match your panties because you weren’t fucking wearing one. He pulled the zipper down until it was just under the bottom of your tits and just as he thought, no bra. Your chest was on full display, slightly glistening with sweat from the material of your dress and he wanted to lick it off.

“Fuck, look at you… prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” Not that he’d seen many but he’s pretty sure these are the best tits in the world regardless.

“You can touch them Eddie, I want you to.” You brought your hands up to squeeze them a few times before grabbing onto your nipples and twisting.

“Hold on, I’m appreciating the art before I destroy it.” He grabbed back onto your zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down so your dress was hanging open. You let the straps fall down your arms, leaving you in just those little panties and socks and he had never seen anything sexier. Your hair was a bit disheveled but still in the style you had done it in before you left for work earlier that night and your slightly smudged dark eye make-up contrasted with the soft pink of your garments. You stand up in front of him and play with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Take this off? I wanna see you too.”

He reaches behind his back to pull his shirt over his head and god damn. He has a few tattoos littered across his pale chest, his skin mostly smooth aside from his happy trail that you wanted to nuzzle your nose into on your way down to his cock.

“Wow. You are so sexy Eds.” You run your nails down his chest and torso, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling his chest against yours. The feeling of your bare nipples pressed up against his warm skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah? You think so? I think you’re the sexiest girl in the world.” He blushed.

“Thank you baby, can I take these off?” You pull on his belt loops with your fingers, running your thumbs along his soft waist.

“Please”

That’s all you needed to hear before you were on your knees in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.

“Holy shit Eddie…” Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him fully bare in front of you. “You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to taste it.” And you meant it, his cock was fucking huge, the hard tip leaking just for you.

He was speechless, looking down at you on your knees in front of him with wide eyes.

You lean forward and run your tongue along his slit, holding eye contact with him while you take his tip in your mouth, suckling on it a few times before taking him deep in your throat.

“Oh fuuuuckkk holy shit.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and rested it there gently, letting you set your own pace.

But it was too gentle. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Eddie.” You pulled your mouth off him with a pop and a string of saliva. “Use me, pull my hair, fuck my mouth, don’t be shy.”

“Holy shit. Are you- are you sure?” He was panting, looking down at you like you just told him he won the lottery.

“I’m so fucking sure, so so sure. If I don’t like something I’ll tell you baby. I promise, I like it rough.”

You spit in your hand, grabbing onto his cock and tugging it a few times before looking up at him with your tongue out.

He was still looking down at you with those big shiny doe eyes and you were about to lose it if he didn’t do something. Your other hand grabs onto his, guiding it to your hair and signaling for him to grab onto it. It took his mind a second to catch up but when he did it was like something snapped in him.

He grabbed onto your hair hard and slid his cock along the length of your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.

“Close your mouth- yeah, like that.” Once your lips were wrapped around him he started to slowly rock back and forth in your mouth, testing you by going deeper with each thrust.

After a few times of him hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag he realized you liked it. Your eyes were watery, mascara starting to run down your cheeks, drool was dripping down your chin and you were fucking moaning around him like you were getting as much pleasure out of this as he was.

He was fully fucking your mouth now, pumping his cock down your throat while he cursed and moaned, using you just like you wanted. You reach your hand up to grab onto his drool slick balls and take them in your palm causing him to jerk forward and let out the sexiest moan yet.

“FUCKING SHIT!” He used your hair to pull you off of him and you look up at him with hooded eyes, a mixture of his precum and your drool dripping down your chin and he has to physically will himself not to cum at the sight. “ If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the next thirty seconds and I was really hoping I’d get to fuck you.”

“What? You don’t wanna cum twice? We have all night, unless you’re busy then I guess you can stop.” You said dramatically, in a way that he would’ve stopped to find really cute if he wasn’t so fucking turned on right now.

He practically growled as he grabbed back onto your hair and resumed his assault on your throat. One of your hands finds its way back to his balls while the other snakes around him to grab a handful of his ass for leverage.

“F-fuck this mouth is so fuckin- You’re such a good girl fuckin droolin all over, grabbin my balls while I use your little mouth. Wearing those little fuckin panties and socks. Fuck!” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips sputtered as you felt him explode in your mouth. You swallowed around him, moaning at his taste and taking all that he gave you.

He released his hold on your hair and you pulled your mouth off of him, bringing your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe the cum that dripped there into your mouth.

“Mmmm, you taste so good Eddie.” You smiled up at him, still on your knees.

“Yeah? I bet you taste even better.”

“Wanna find out?” You smirked at him, getting to your feet and laying back on the bed.

“Fuuuuuck” Eddie groaned at the sight of you laying there for him with your legs spread, a very prominent wet patch in those fucking panties, your hands grabbing on to your tits while your fingers pinch your nipples. You looked like the only meal he wanted to eat for the rest of his life. He got on the bed on his knees between your legs, smashing his lips to yours and kissing you like his life depended on it. He slid his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately granted him access. He tasted himself on your tongue and it caused him to moan into the kiss.

He kissed down your jaw to your neck, running his tongue along the column of your throat, stopping just behind your ear at your pulse point to suck a mark there. He kissed and licked and sucked all the way down your body, stopping to pay your nipples extra attention.

When he reached the band of your panties he licked across your waist and nipped at your hips causing you to let out breathy little moans. He placed a kiss on each of your hip bones before placing one right on the top of your mound, looking up at you with those fucking eyes.

“Mmm baby, I can smell you.” He groaned as he breathed in your scent, flicking his tongue out to run it along your cloth covered slit, adding extra pressure to your clit. He wraps his lips around your bud, swirling his tongue, and even with the small barrier between you it still makes you see stars. He licks all around your cunt, soaking your already wet underwear as he laps at it. Finally he brings his finger to your panties to move them to the side and you barely even have time to process before he’s shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out.

“Oh f-fuck! Yes Eddie fuck!” Your hands come down and tangle into his hair, tugging it and causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations going through you like a shockwave.

His tongue came back up your bud, rotating between rough and soft flicks. His pointer and ring finger circle your hole before he inserts them both fully without resistance. He pumps them in and out of you, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and wetness as he laps at you. He sucks harder on your clit just as he curls his fingers just right and you see stars. Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips rocked against his face, his name on your lips like a prayer, riding out your high until it becomes too much and you’re pushing his head off of you.

He looks up at you with your jucies still running down his chin and fucking smiles.

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Yeah? And have you tasted a lot of pussys, Mr. Munson?” You tease.

“I mean-“ Suddenly his face flushes red and that shy nervous boy from earlier was back “Not… that many, a few. I’m no lady killer or anything I mean you know this town is I-“

You grab his face in both of your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Honey, I was just teasing, I don’t care how many girls you’ve been with, I wouldn't even care if you hadn’t been with any.”

You smiled at him sweetly, pushing his bangs off his forehead and he smiled back, kissing you deeply. There was something so comforting about you to him, he felt like he could truly be himself with you and he’s not sure he’s felt that when he was with a woman ever.

You sit up and push him down by his shoulders, swinging your leg over to straddle him. Your underwear were still pushed to the side, your slick pussy lips were nestled on either side of his shaft as you slid back and forth on him with ease.

“I can’t wait to feel this pretty cock splitting me open.” You leaned forward and slid your fingers in the band of your underwear to take them off but Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stopping you.

“Can you keep them on?” His eyes were pleading, his lips pouty.

“Anything for you, sweet boy. You really like these huh?” You giggled.

“The whole cute pink panties and socks underneath the black leather thing is really doing it for me, if you couldn’t tell.” He bit his lip, running his hands down your sides before bringing them to your tits to squeeze them roughly.

You giggled as you rose up to your knees, taking him in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and sink down on him slowly. Once your hips were flush against his you both moaned loudly.

“Fuck, so big, filling me up so good Eds.” You rocked back and forth slightly, just adjusting to the feeling of him so deep inside you. Once you felt adjusted you rose almost all the way off his cock before slamming back down on it causing him to jerk forward and moan out your name.

“Holy fuckin shit, your pussy is suckin me in so good holy fu-fuck, ridin me s-so good baby.” And you were, you were riding him like your life depended on it. “Bouncin on my cock just like those little bunnies on your panties, is that what you are? A lil bunny?”

That snapped something inside you, it was like he said the magic words and nothing else mattered in that moment besides riding his cock, being his little bunny.

You were on your heels now, using his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his cock. Rotating and rolling your hips, the patch of curly brown hair at his base rubbing against your clit just right.

Eddie was in Heaven, he wanted to throw his head back and shut his eyes but he couldn’t tear them off of you. You were bouncing on his cock like a rabbit in heat. A layer of sweat glistened on your body, your hair a mess, there was a bit of drool dripping down your chin and your pussy was swallowing him hole over and over again, you were so wet he could see a milky white ring of your cum on his cock. He was going to cum soon but he absolutely needed you to before he did.

His grip on your hips tightened causing your movements to halt, but before you could even protest he was fucking up into you hard and fast.

“Oh fuuuuck yes, just like that baby, right fuckin there don’t fuckin stop I’m so close.” That’s all Eddie needed to hear, he brought one of his thumbs down to your slick clit and started rubbing fast circles on it while he continued to fuck up into you at a brutal pace.

“Shit, me too bunny, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Inside please Eddie I want you to fill me up.”

“Oh godddd” He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back while he pumped his cum deep inside of you. The feeling sent you over the edge, coming undone on his cock while he continued to sloppily fuck you both through your highs.

You sighed, and exhaustedly let your body slump over Eddie’s while you both tried to catch your breath.

“Holy. Shit. That was… wow” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your back.

“Yeah, it really was.” You giggled as you rolled off of him, laying on your side next to him and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He was so pretty, his hair disheveled, his skin flushed and decorated in your nail marks, his lips swollen with your kisses. He smiled at you sweetly, shifting around so he could hold you better, he finally got a glimpse of your room.

He didn’t even really look at it when you walked it, he obviously noticed that you had a black open canopy on your four post bed but what he didn’t notice was the cute stuffed animals that were sitting by your black silk pillows, or the cool ass horror movie posters on the walls that contrasted that completely. You noticed him looking around, his eyes filled with awe, like he was genuinely interested in your world and it warmed your heart.

“I like your room, you really have this whole creepy cute thing down to a science don’t you?” He smiled at you, cradling your jaw in his hand and you leaned into it.

“Mhm, I guess I do.” You returned his smile with your own sleepy one, yawning. “You wanna stay the night? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but-“

“I want to.” Eddie cut you off, it was his turn to reassure you. You had seemed so sure of yourself all night but when it came down to if he was going to leave or not he could tell it made you nervous, like maybe people didn’t usually want to stay with you after and that broke him a little. Who wouldn’t want to stay with you? You’re perfect. To him at least. “I want to stay, and I want to take you to breakfast in the morning. I also would really like to take you on a proper date, if that’s something you’d want to do.”

Your heart swelled, because you did want that, more than he knew.

“I’d love that actually.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

You both giggled and kissed each other sweetly, whispering jokes and sweet nothings into each others ears until sleep peacefully took over.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Creep

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: The man on your train is a creep

You hated taking the tube.

It was smelly and packed and made weird noises that freaked you out. You would get dirty looks all the time because you had to squeeze on with your kit bag and your schoolwork.

But, in particular, you hated this one specific man.

He looked to be more than twice your age, one of those middle-aged finance guys in a fancy suit and enough money to buy three houses but common sense enough to not drive through London during rush hour.

He got on at the stop after you in the mornings and the one just before you in the evenings.

With the strength of the crowd, he always ended up pressed against you during the morning rush, always a little too close for comfort.

The train car rocked violently as it moved out from the station and you immediately felt hands on your hips.

"Sorry 'bout that," He said, leaning down into your personal space," Just lost my balance there for a second."

But his hands stayed firm on your waist.

You tried to laugh it off. "Oh...er, yeah, no problem..." You were frozen in place, unable to really do anything in the packed train with this strange man pressed up against you.

You were lucky that your stop was next and you wiggled out of his grip to exit.

The feeling of his hands on your hips stayed with you as you walked from the station to the training ground. By the time training was over, you had forgotten all about it.

But, in the coming days, he clearly hadn't.

It was like the floodgates had opened. He always ended up pressed close against you, always touching you in some way and you could do nothing about it.

You thought about catching the bus to training but it would just take longer so you just stayed with the train. You thought about getting a later train but the last time you did that, you were a few minutes off being late and doing that more often just felt like tempting fate.

You could cope with it though. You only saw him twice a day (once if you missed the first train back home) and you could easily wedge yourself further away into other people if you really tried.

It was only when he started to show up to your matches that you got the feeling that something could go wrong.

"Fancy seeing you here." He leaned over the railing with one of those smirks that you think the girls with daddy issues at your school would be attracted to.

You didn't quite know how to respond to that so you just awkwardly laughed like you did the first day on the train. "Ha, yeah."

"Mind taking a picture with me? My mates didn't quite believe me when I told them that the fit girl from Arsenal gets my train."

His wording was strange and crept on the edges of creepy but it was an innocent enough request so you took his phone and leaned up against the railing, trying to get a good angle.

He leaned down, his chin resting on your shoulder and goose bumps of fear crept up your neck when you felt his breath there.

"Hey."

You jerked away instinctively as a familiar voice approached. Lia, usually smiling, held a slight grimace on her face as she walked closer. Her eyes flicked to the man then back to you, plucking the phone from your hand.

"Why don't we make it the three of us?"

She didn't let the man respond, easily slotting in next to you and resting her arm around your shoulders so he couldn't put his face so close.

It worked for the most part but, as you plastered a fake smile on your face, you caught him angling his face down to sniff at your hair.

Lia gave him his phone back, pulling you away with her.

"Did you know him?" Kim asked as she joined the two of you, having been only moments away from intervening herself.

You glanced back at him, yelping slightly when you noticed him still staring. "He gets on my train."

Kim looked back too, eyes narrowed. "Come on, I'll drop you home today. You need to be careful on public transport."

"I know."

True to her word, Kim dropped you home. In fact, she continued to drop you home every day after practice so you only had to deal with the man in the mornings.

But, it was on the one day that Kim was sick, that it all came to a head.

You pulled your hood over your head as you began your trek to the train station, huffing in frustration at every step due to the ache in your legs.

"Hey! Wait up!" Leah came barrelling over, swinging one arm over your shoulder and almost causing you to crash to the floor. "Where'd you think you're going?"

"Home?"

"Without me?"

You gave her a look. "Don't you own a car?"

"It's getting serviced. Thought that I would see how you do it."

You rolled your eyes, checking the time on your phone. "We're gonna miss the first train because of you," You told her," But if we get to the station in the next ten minutes, we'll be able to catch the next one."

"Excellent."

You were right, of course. You arrived at the station just as the second train (thankfully much less packed than the first) pulled up. You slipped through the doors, talking aimlessly with Leah as you sat in the first seat you could find.

"Fancy seeing you here."

A shiver ran up your spine.

You hadn't even realised that you sat next to him until he spoke.

Leah narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, er, yeah. Just heading home."

"I haven't seen you in the evenings for a while now."

"I've been getting a lift back."

He nodded along, seemingly uncaring towards the fact that you were clearly leaning away from him. If there hadn't been an armrest in the way, you were sure that you'd have already tumbled into Leah's lap.

"The Arsenal training grounds aren't too far from where I work. We could take a cab back together sometime."

You shivered again, body going rigid as he flashed his too-white smile at you and, almost in slow motion, moved to rest his hand on your thigh.

Leah snatched his wrist out of the air, squeezing tightly until her knuckles were white. "You need to leave her alone," She said in warning, her voice low and dangerous like it was on the pitch," I don't want to see you anywhere near her. In fact, you're never going to see her again."

The train pulled into a station that definitely wasn't yours but Leah still yanked you up and got off with you, snapping a picture of the man on her phone as she went.

"How long has that been going on?" She demanded, not even waiting to get off the platform. "He seemed pretty familiar with you."

Shame flooded your body and you couldn't meet her eyes. "A few months. He crashed into me during rush hour."

Leah sighed, long and drawn out like she was trying to control herself. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"What use would that do? Men are creeps sometimes. There's nothing I can do about it."

In an instant, you were pulled into her, arms wrapped tight around your waist as you were pressed into her neck.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," She said," I'm so, so sorry that you've had to put up with that for so long."

"It's fine," You replied dismissively," It hardly matters anyway."

"It does matter. Don't pretend that it doesn't. I heard from Lia that some other creep was at the game against Bristol. Is it the same guy?"

You nodded.

Leah sighed again, finally letting you pull away but still keeping your hand tight in hers. "I'm going to send that picture to the girls and Jonas, alright? We're gonna have him banned from our matches."

"Thank you," You whispered.

"And we'll work out a schedule on who will take you to and from practice, so he can't corner you on the train again."

"Thank you," You said again.

Leah grinned, bringing you even closer than before. "Now that that's sorted out...Do you know how to get home from here? I'm not too sure where we are."

[undiscovered-horizon]

Return to sender - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[graphic descriptions of violence/injury]

SUMMARY: Someone from your past keeps sending you unambiguously romantic letters. While you think of them as nothing beyond an inconvenience, Kaz has a different opinion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.9k

A/N: I'm going through the first editorial correction for my novel and as it turns out, I can't speak my own mother tongue lmao

Kaz has an eye for details. Whether it’s a pattern or an overlooked design, he always notices. That set of skills, either he learned them or was born with them, made it painfully obvious to him that your foul mood coincided with correspondence he never saw you actually read. The letter usually ends up in the nearest fireplace, its secrets never uncovered and you maunder around the club looking for a fight or a strong drink. A much bigger problem, however, was the fact that if you were in a sour mood, Kaz would become exceptionally chippy without an apparent cause. ‘Care for my investment’ he calls it, which makes a rather amusing euphemism.

In any event, he knows that the letter should arrive today. Exactly seven weeks had passed since the last time some mysterious correspondence pissed you off and the sender, as far as Kaz has noticed, is like clockwork. Strangely enough, he can’t recall a day when the letter should arrive that you’d come to the club already annoyed as though he has become privy to a rather obvious pattern that you remain oblivious to. If so, he has even more advantage - he can solve this inconvenience behind your back, in case you’d try to dismiss him. He wouldn’t listen anyway, of course. Not when it comes to you.

Knowing very well that you have a habit of arriving shortly after Inej, he’s quick to find the thief before you even get a chance of catching wind of his scheme. She’s fixing her clothes when she spots him hastily limping towards her with his face turned nearly into a snarl. A hand brushes through his hair. He’s agitated. But Inej knows better than to make the first move against the unmovable mountain. Kaz sought her out, after all, and if he means business, he won’t waste time.

And he does just as she thought. Speaking in a low tone, Kaz makes her part of his conspiracy: “Inej, I need you to do something but no one else can know. Someone will deliver a letter today. Follow them and find out as much as you can,” his voice is stern, not accepting refusal. The matter appears urgent, of utter importance.

Her keen gaze studies his face for a moment, looking for any way even the slightest tick of muscles could reveal a further piece of the mystery she isn’t yet privy to. “Is this about the new job we’re doing?” She elegantly manoeuvres around the subject.

Kaz knows what she’s trying to do. He clenches his jaw and gives her a blank, although somewhat impatient, look before slowly answering: “It’s rather loosely related.”

This is enough to put her curiosity on hold - for now, at least. The unmovable mountain remains, well, unmovable. Inej nods. “I’m on it.”

The moment she ends her sentence, the door to the club opens with a creek echoing through the otherwise empty venue, immediately earning the undivided attention of Kaz and Inej. The sound of heels against the wooden floor is unmistakable as is the fitting, rather short, coat. Inej smiles, stifling laughter as she notices Kaz immediately straightening his back when he sees you.

There’s a certain spring to your step, one that Kaz has learned to associate with complacency. Although this joyous aura is making his mind turn into quicksand swallowing anything coherent, he’s got enough grip on his thoughts to render his theory proved - you really do not have any idea that the letters come regularly. 

With a triumphant grin, you wave a scroll in his face. “I had a hunch and did some browsing at the city archives. You’re going to love it.”

Inej is gone and the only thing Kaz can do at the moment is wait along with trying his best not to think about this mail fiasco. But considering you’ll spend the entire day a mere inch or two away from him, he’s hardly going to do much thinking anyway. 

“Let’s see it then,” Kaz interposes before turning around and walking back to his office. 

Making his way to Brekker’s office, Jesper examined the expensive stationery from every side and angle. No matter the perspective, the cursive letters on the front still spell out your name. Truthfully, he does that every time you receive mail, mainly because of how little you talk about the possible sender. There’s always a huff, an eye-roll and the envelope ends up turned into ashes, without any further explanation. You become short-tempered for the rest of the day and go ballistic on anyone trying to inquire about the mysterious correspondence. As much entertainment as it usually brings Jesper, he’s smart enough to know when to stop poking the bear.

Jesper knocks on the door but opens them right after - announcing his arrival rather than asking for permission to enter. 

“...smuggling through the sewers.” He hears you finishing your sentence.

Both you and Kaz simultaneously tear away your gaze from the maps scattered on the table and bore your eyes into Jesper with anticipation. He lifts the letter, wriggling his wrist slightly, and immediately your expression falls. You clench your fist. A contemptuous grimace creeps onto your face.

“Letter for you,” he announces.

“By the Saints, not this again,” you whisper and roll your eyes.

“What do you mean again?” Jesper asks casually, half expecting you to break his hand and half hoping for an answer. Today, as it turns out, is his lucky day.

“A friend once convinced me to go to some socialite high tea with her. I met someone there, we wrote to each other a few times and then he started to be obnoxious, the whole ‘woe is me’ lark.” The memory must still be vivid to you as you let out an annoyed sigh. “He claimed he can’t live without me while never spelling my name correctly. But since I value myself a little too much to waste my time on pity parties, I simply stopped replying. The last letter I sent him, I don’t know, three years ago? And he just keeps coming back.” You clench your jaw, clearly stopping yourself from a string of profanities considered obscene even in this company.

Jesper puts on a playful grin. “You know, you never struck me as someone who’d have a secret admirer.”

Your irritated gaze makes him equally amused and nervous. “He’s not exactly secret, is he? More of a returning cockroach infestation. Worry not, boys, I’ll just burn this one like the rest and we can all forget about this little perplexity.”

“Come on, you’re not even a little bit curious about what’s inside?” Jesper coaxes as he hands you the letter.

“Believe me when I tell you that I don’t give a rat’s bald ass about this man and his pathetic wax poetic.” You snatch the envelope, all the while looking at your friend with squinted, piercing eyes. Considering who you are, a complete lack of curiosity whatsoever might as well be a symptom of a lethal disease.

In that short moment, when the stationery goes from Jesper’s hand into yours, Kaz watches the letter as closely as he can. Smooth paper, probably expensive. Careful lettering, written with patience and thoughtfulness. An aroma of mint and tobacco lingers on the parchment. The stamp has the current date on it and the postal code is only a few numbers away from the club’s - whoever sent it is in Ketterdam and quite close by.

Kaz makes those little observations just in time because you throw the letter into the fireplace behind him, without even glancing at the paper. The flames grow for a few seconds, devouring the dry stationery. Soon, there’s no evidence that any mail has been delivered to you on this day.

“Now, where were we?” You clap your hands. “Ah, sewers.” Jesper takes the change of subject as his cue to leave but you stop him right when he pushes down the door handle. “Oh, and Jesper? If you tell Inej, I’m ripping your arm off and beating you to death with it.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, a newfound sense of anxiety turning his vivid amusement into somewhat tame courtesy, leaving his smile unfaltering but tearing away the genuine joy behind it. “I will keep this enlightening piece of advice in mind, thank you.”

The door clicks as Jesper closes it behind himself. Returning to your previous engagement, you stumble upon Brekker’s stern gaze of disapproval. 

“Do not maim my investments.” Although it’s supposed to be a scolding or a threat, it comes out with a certain note of disinterest.

“Don’t try playing all nice, Kaz. You and I both know you’d watch for like ten minutes before stepping in.”

His gloved finger taps the map. “Sewers.” 

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yes, sir’ and pick up the single-handed divider again. Kaz examines your face out of the corner of his eye. Judging by your casual demeanour, the palm’s length between your heads is of no bother to you. Maybe you’re just too busy counting the segments with the divider. When you’re done, you reach for the other side of the desk, for a moment leaving broody Kaz to the, surprisingly cold, lukewarm air filling the room.

This day just can’t seem to end for Burr Lowther. First, he had to take his regular trip into the filth of the Barrel, he shudders at the memory, only to then spend another ten hours at the sewing workshop. Being a foreman pays exceptionally well and perhaps this is the only reason he’s still putting up with those lazy needlewomen. 

Putting his well-kept coat on the hanger by the front door, Burr lets out a sigh of relief - compared to the factory, his house is a quiet oasis. He remembers to take out a pouch and a box of expensive cigars from his coat. Without much thinking, he opens the small bag and puts another leaf of mint between his teeth. What started first as an addition to his personal hygiene, has quickly become a habit impossible to kill. Now used to the strong, chilly sensation on his tongue, he’s grown to like it. 

The house is drowning in darkness. Dim, yellow light from the streetlamps crawling in through the windows is barely enough to let him make his way around the furniture. Foreman Lowther is yet to start the fire in his living room but he needs to be quick - if he stalls too long his joints will begin to hurt. Even with laudanum, the ache is bound to keep him up for hours and that’s something he can’t afford. But first, he needs some light to be able to get the necessary things.

Chewing on the herb, Burr walks to the table across the room from the fireplace. He puts the new box of cigars down and begins looking for something to light the oil lamp. Once he blindly finds a box of matches, his muscle memory does most of the job - he’s lit up the lamp far too many times to think about the actions. In swift, mechanical motions, Burr takes off the chimney, lights the wick and puts the glass part back on. The fire brightens the rest of the table, reminding the foreman that he forgot to put away the made-to-order McKinnon & Co. stationery. He pushes the paper farther away from the lamp, just in case.

Burr’s knees make a cracking noise when he crouches in front of the fireplace. Carefully, he lights a match and puts it between logs and old newspapers. The fire smoulders for a moment, balancing between starting and being put out, before a bigger flame begins gnawing at the dry wood and paper. 

Foreman Lowther is about to stand up when something hits the side of his head, making his face clash with the seat of a nearby armchair. Scurrying and turning around, he sees an outline of a man, looking more like a feverish mare of the night than a real human. He’s thin and tall, dressed rather elegantly. The model crow on his cane glistens in the newly started fire.

“Who are you?” Burr’s voice cracks, giving away his panic.

“A scorned businessman, Burr Lowther,” Kaz explains slowly.

The foreman climbs backwards into the armchair. It’s difficult to look imposing while sitting beside a fireplace but his fear is far too severe to let the man stand on his own two feet.

“I’ve no business with you!” he yells. A few droplets of spit fly out of his mouth. “Get out!” Burr’s shaky hand points vaguely in the direction of the front door but Kaz, as it seems, is not going anywhere just yet.

In slow steps, Kaz gets closer to Burr, the difference in height painting him even more menacing. Lowther’s hand falls limp on a small table meant for trays with food.

“Perhaps you don’t. But I have plenty with you.”

Before foreman Lowther can ask another question, Brekker drives a sharp blade through the man’s palm, pinning it to the wooden counter. A howl of pain cuts through the night, scaring away the birds sitting outside the windows. Thick, crimson blood spills from the wound, falling to the floor in long drops. The fireplace’s flame glistens in the growing puddle, the reflection dances in morbid anticipation.

Kaz walks over to the table with the oil lamp. The first thing that catches his eye is the ivory paper. Somehow, he stifles the visceral reaction it elicits from him. Grabbing the wad of stationery, he folds it a few times and puts it in the inner pocket of his coat. Then his gaze trails towards the wooden box of cigars. The name of the company, Starling, is burned in cursive lettering on the front. In a swift movement, Kaz slides the package open, knowing exactly what he’s going to find inside - a cigar cutter. For people who can afford Starling tobacco products, it definitely doesn’t befit to chew off the end.

Firelight cascades off the metal cutter when Kaz turns back towards Burr. The man’s eyes widen in panic, recognizing the sharp device put against him.

“No, sir,” Burr begs with a frantic shake of his head. “Oh, Saints, please, no! Don’t! I’m begging you, sir! Please, please! No, please!”

Brekker’s face doesn’t change its indifferent expression. The pleading is not putting him off, never faltering his already-made decision. Perhaps, if it isn’t too morbid to consider, he’s enjoying having someone at his mercy. The cigar cutter clicks quietly as Kaz closes it a few times to check the state of the mechanism.

Kaz makes his way back to the foreman. Casually, he puts his cane against the table but away from the nailed palm, careful not to get it dirty. Then, he snatches Burr’s other hand, the swiftness diminishing all doubts that he’s inexperienced in bringing suffering.

“You have laid your hands on something that isn’t yours, Lowther,” Brekker explains as he forces one of the man’s fingers through the cutter’s opening. “Now you must pay for it.”

A muscle in his face ticks as he presses the cigar cutter. Burr howls in agony, tears streaming down his face. The finger falls to the floor with a wet slap as blood begins to pour. The white tip of the bone sticks out from the pulsating flesh, glistening in the warm, dim light of the burning fireplace.

In a feverish delirium, Lowther mumbles something under his nose, the string of incomprehensible words sometimes interrupted by sobs. Kaz can understand only two things from the ramblings of a madman: ‘wench’ and ‘reply’. Scarce information but he hardly needs more.

“Wench?” he repeats in a low voice.

With a snap of his wrist, Kaz twists the knife still residing in the man’s hand. A bone cracks. But there’s no scream this time - not an ounce of strength left in the victim. Lonely tears stream down his grey face, mixing with cold sweat as he blankly stares ahead. A gloved hand yanks his head back by the hair, forcing delirious Burr to look into Brekker’s eyes. They look darker than they should, clouded with something far too horrible to be considered human.

“Not only did you lay your filthy hands on something of mine,” Kaz’s voice is low enough to resemble a growl as though something carnal inside him has finally woken from its slumber, “but you also dare insult her.”

Burr makes a strange guttural noise, something between a gag reflex and a murmur, as another one of his fingers is cut off. Considering his vacant expression, it’s hard to say whether his consciousness even registered the loss.

Kaz tosses away the cigar cutter. It clutters and clicks falling in the largely unknown corner of the room. Reaching inside his coat, he pulls out the folded stationery. Pressing tightly on Burr’s cheeks, he forces the man’s mouth open.

“I don’t think you will be needing this anymore.”

Even if foreman Lowther was in his right mind at the moment, there wouldn’t be much he could do to prevent Kaz from shoving the dry paper down his throat. A match, a spark, a smoulder - the ivory stationery is burning inside Burr’s mouth.

Leaving Burr Lowther to his own devices, Kaz Brekker leaves the house, joining the otherwise grey and indifferent citizens of Ketterdam. The sunrise is just a few hours away. He’s making his way back to the club, uninterrupted and unbothered, to enjoy another day of your hardly divided attention.

[ramblingoak]

Care Package

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader ~ You take care of Copia after he gets sick at the end of the tour

Warnings: Copia being dramatic while sick, fluff, sfw, 1k words, not proofread forgive me

“I’m dying.”

Here we go.  It was a good thing your back was turned because Copia would pitch a fit if he saw you rolling your eyes.  You sighed and continued to pick up all of the used tissues that were littering the floor.  When he let out a pitiful sigh you groaned, turning your head to glare at him.

“Copia, you’re fine.”

“No, no this is it.  I can feel it.”  You bit your lip to stifle the laugh that wanted to bubble out.  Copia was endlessly dramatic whenever he was under the weather.  “It’s near.”

“What’s near?”

“Death.”

“Oh Lucifer, you’re not going to die from a cold.”  He started to respond but was immediately interrupted by a series of violent sneezes, the whole bed shaking from the force of them.  You turned back to the dirty tissues, shoving them into a trash bag while he recovered.  The sound of him blowing his nose filled the room and right when you were turning to check on him again a wet, balled up tissue hit you right in the face.  “Son of a fuck!  Copia!”

“Eh?”  His adorably confused look stopped you from leaping onto the bed and strangling him, but just barely.  The sight of his red, watery eyes made your irritation disappear.  His face was flushed from the fever and sweaty locks of hair had fallen across his forehead.  When Copia realized you were staring at him he groaned and threw his arm over his face.  “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?”  You dropped the trash bag and grabbed another box of tissues, slowly walking around the bed to sit by his hip.  He whined when you tugged on his arm so you could see his face.  “Hey, like what?”

“Pathetic.”  You cooed at him, reaching out to brush his hair back.  He sighed when you placed your cool hand on his forehead.  “Weak and old.  Hideous.” 

“Well, this is all true bu–”

“Dolcezza!”  Copia’s voice broke while he whined and he was overcome with a fit of coughing.  You helped turn him so he was coughing away from you, rubbing his back as they came to an end.  “Ugh, why are you here?”

“Someone has to take care of you.”

“You’re going to get sick too.”  He rolled back over on his back with a groan.  “I don’t want you to catch this.”

“I’ll just have to risk it.”  You smoothed his hair out again, giving him a soft smile when he met your eyes.  “I want to take care of you, Copia.”

“Fine, fine.  Twist my arm.”  He managed a weak smile and you resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him.  “Thank you, amore.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.”  You reached towards his night stand and grabbed the damp cloth you had set there earlier.  Copia let out a relieved sigh when you wiped the sweat off his face.  “Now, I’m going to clean you up a bit and then you’ll need to eat something before you take any more medicine.”

“I couldn’t possib–”

“It's homemade chicken noodle soup.”

You laughed when he grabbed your hand, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Did Secondo make it?”

“Yes, your brothers gave me a care package for you.”  Copia sniffled a bit and you let him pretend it was from his cold.  You got up to grab the laundry basket Terzo had given you and brought it over to the bed, setting it at Copia’s feet so you could show him everything inside.  “Your ghouls also added a few things.”

“Anything good?”

“Primo gave me a salve I’m supposed to rub on your chest.”  You shook her head at him when he waggled his eyebrows.  Even when feverish he couldn’t help himself.  “And Terzo added a book and these penis shaped hard candies for your throat.”

“Where does he find this stuff?”  Copia made grabby hands for the candies and you tossed them over.  He opened the bag quickly, popping one into his mouth and smiling around it.  “These aren’t bad though, what book is it?” 

“The Hobbit.”  His eyes immediately started watering and you frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.  He used to read that to me when we were kids.”  Copia cleared his throat and smiled.  “What did the ghouls send?”

“Um, Phantom knit you a sweater but he ran out of yarn so it’s missing a sleeve.”  You held up the bright blue monstrosity that the quintessence ghoul had proudly shoved into your hands that morning.  “Other than that you got some eucalyptus candles and tea, a few crossword puzzle books and Aurora is letting you borrow her box set of all the Halloween movies.”

Copia’s face lit up at the last item, both he and the ghoulette had bonded over an intense love for slasher movies.  You laid the sweater over his chest and handed him the dvd’s then busied yourself putting the basket away and setting the candles around the room while you both pretended he wasn’t crying.  After he blew his nose a few times you wandered back over, the book from Terzo in your hands.  Copia yawned and settled back into his pillows while you fussed over him, helping him get comfortable.

“Will you read to me, amore?”  You wanted to get him to eat some soup first, but rest would be good for him as well.  As carefully as possible you got up on the bed and sat next to him, smiling when he scooted closer and rested his head against your thigh.  “Just until I fall asleep.”

“Whatever you need, Copia.  I’ll be right here.”  His breath was already evening out, his body going limp as you ran your fingers through his hair.  You quietly opened the book in your lap, taking a few seconds to watch him before you started to read.  “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…” 

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you! Also if you'd prefer to only be tagged in my reader insert stuff that's ok! Feel free to let me know!

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

To the Other Side

Spontaneous fic I decided to write because I want to witness Fellow and Rollo interact (outside of fan art) 💕 I took a lot of inspiration from The Other Side and The Greatest Show from the same musical, and this fan comic and this fan art.

There’s just something so fun about Fellow’s happy, playful vibes mingling with Rollo being deadly serious and hateful 😂

***SPOILER WARNING: Glorious Masquerade and Stage in Playful Land!!!***

Imagine this…

The nearby town was the only reprieve Rollo had from Night Raven College. Magic was school-sanctioned (in theory), but the rule did little to curb the spells fired off in spontaneous spats between classes, pranks, resolving minor inconveniences, and—this made his lip curl the most—for fun. He turned the other cheek in the presence of instructors, chided classmates when catching them in the act, and vented his anger in private.

Soon, he told himself. Soon, this loathsome school exchange program would be over, and Night Raven College put behind him. But one man can only take so much sin before his patience threatened to give, irritation spilling over his carefully constructed walls.

Out here, a bus ride away from campus, he was free from those vile villains, however fleeting it was. The air cleaner, his mind clearer, as he breathed in the salt-kissed, balmy air. Waves lapping against the pier, the town’s comfortable hum as time rolled by, a soothing song.

He looked out at the waters, blue tipped with the white of sunshine dappling a painting. It was alive, yet at peace with the world. Knew its place.

Rollo's eyes drift shut, and he allowed the sea to envelop him. Quiet, calming, completely—

“Oya? Oya oya oyaaaaa?"

An exaggerated drawl invaded his ears. It was an unfamiliar man’s voice, slick with overly honeyed friendliness.

“You there, sir!” he called out. “Might I have a moment of your time?”

Ignore him, Rollo coached himself. He is not referring to you. There are many people in the town he could be accosting.

The crack of a clap on his shoulder suggested otherwise.

Rollo’s tranquility splintered and shattered, like glass dropped. His eyes snapped open again, alert and irritated.

A man had emerged on his left, and a small boy on his right. They stood too close for comfort, and seemed to be leering at him. From up, from down, encasing him in a web of excited stares.

The man had ginger hair in a widow's peak, the rest swept aside to make way for sharp eyes. His suit was fine at a glance, olive vest and neat cravat, violet coat with golden details and tassels cinched over it—but upon closer inspection, there was a hole in the pinkie finger of his long white gloves, and a miscellaneous diamond patchwork of patterns running down his trousers.

Something about him screamed “showman". Perhaps it was the jaunty half cape that hung off his left shoulder or the knee-high spats over shoes that clicked loudly, calling attention to him, with each step. Maybe it was the sparkle-studded top hat upon his head, nestled between two twitching ears, or the cheery flicker of his bushy tail, or the cane in hand, topped with a golden fox. (... Rollo suspected it was his boldness, the sheer audacity to insert himself where he wasn’t needed.)

The boy with the showman was a cat beastman, shorter and disposition shyer. His hair was a red-brown rat's nest even clamped under a smaller, brightly colored top hat, his fur just as unkempt. The only thing that seemed to fit on his slight frame is a lilac shirt and a small bow tie. His mustard yellow jacket looked as though it has had its body sheared in half, then the fabric stuck back onto the oversized sleeves, the pants attached to his overalls saggy and patched up with the wrong patterns. Even his boots were wrong—untied—and socks mismatched.

He blinked at Rollo through eyes that sloped downward, his expression lax. His mouth was steady beneath a spray of dark freckles. The boy held onto a comedically large hammer, hands still trapped in his enormous sleeves as he gripped its handle.

Suspicious, Rollo concluded. They are highly suspicious individuals.

“… May I help you?” he asked, not out of kindness but as a courtesy.

“Ohoh!!” The man grinned broadly. “That composed stride! That stern, solitary gaze! Those extravagant robes! So sensible, so conventional. There’s no doubt in my mind! You, my good man, must hail from THE Noble Bell College!”

Rollo’s mouth was quickly forming a frown. A fan of flattery he was not. "What of it?”

The stranger chuckled, the coy hand on Rollo's shoulder not budging. The warmth of it made his skin crawl in spite of the layers of fabric separating them. "You've come a long way from the Shaftlands then! Tell me, how do you find Sage's Island? Is it everything you’ve dreamed it to be—or, dare I say, more?”

“I was beginning to enjoy it, right up until you and your companion happened upon me,” Rollo grumbled, jerking his shoulder away from the stranger’s touch. “I do not have many opportunities to steal away into town.”

“You have my humblest of apologies!” The man bowed deeply. It took a few seconds of lag, but the boy clumsily followed suit. “Gidel and I, we’re the curious sort, you see! We come across many wary souls on our own travels, and we want to get to know them. Isn’t that right, Giddie?”

Gidel nodded eagerly.

The fox beastman stuck out a hand, taking Rollo’s before he was given the chance to reciprocate or decline. He shook firmly, with enough strength to rattle around Rollo’s bones. “Fellow Honest’s the name! And you, my esteemed gentleman?”

“Rollo Flamme.” His reply was curt, intended to cut the conversation short with its bluntness. He tried to sidestep the man, but failed as Fellow slid to block him.

“Rollo—may I call you that? Great, greeat!!” he gushed, again not pausing for a “no” to potentially slip in. “From just a glance, I can tell you’re an upstanding, diligent student. You’ve been hitting the books so hard, you’ve barely gotten in a wink of sleep!”

Rollo’s mouth pinched. It was not an uncommon comment for him to hear, but he wasn’t the least bit delighted to have it spun as a compliment either.

“You poor, poor boy! You must be a nervous wreck!” Fellow sighed, sympathetically stroking the back of one of Rollo’s hands with his own. The student shuddered and pulled away with a slight glare. Rather than taking note of the displeasure, Fellow brightened, snapping his fingers. “That’s it! You are a nervous wreck!! We must diagnose this case at once.”

To Rollo’s bewilderment, Fellow produced a pair of spectacles from his breast pocket and slipped them onto his face. Gidel whipped out a notebook and a pencil from his overalls, poised to take notes.

“Let’s have a look at you!”

Fellow circled the dazed Rollo, poking and prodding at the boy’s lean frame with the butt of his cane. It bit into his ribs, his cheek, his thighs, as Fellow rattled off nonsensical phrases, Gidel reverently scrawling them down. Rollo swatted at the fox as if dispelling a pesky bug—but Fellow was too fast, too slippery, to land a clean hit on.

He at last stepped back, snatching up the notes from Gidel. (Rollo caught a brief glimpse of the writing—it was nothing close to what could pass as language.)

Fellow raked a hand through his hair as he seriously took in the report of scribbles. With each passing second, his features increasingly crinkled with concern. "Oh me, oh my, oh dear!! Alas, it's just as I suspected!"

"... What?"

The glasses and the notepad were promptly discarded. Props made meaningless now that their purpose was fulfilled.

Fellow snaked an arm around Rollo. Firmer this time, not something to be shaken off. "You, my boy, are allergic! To this drudgery! This cage, these walls!" He wildly gestured with his cane to their surroundings. "This life you're trapped in! You're stressed, depressed, mad, sad, miserable, all of the above!"

Each adjective thrown out drew Rollo's brows closer and closer together until there was no hiding his grimace. “I do not appreciate the unwarranted judgments being made of my character.”

"You see! My hunch was right!" Fellow flicked at a corner of Rollo's frown. It deepened. "There's only one cure for what you have: a vacation! And luckily for you, I have exactly what you need right here…!”

Reaching into his sleeve, Fellow retrieved a single ticket, sandwiched between two lithe fingers. The sepia image of an amusement park wreathed in flags was frames in crimson, blue, and gold. Admit One, trumpeted the ticket, to Playful Land.

“It just so happens that I, Fellow-sama, am the manager to the fabled amusement park of wonder, hopes, and dreams... Playful Land! Have you heard of it? It's a magical place with a plethora of rides, games, song and dance! Why, there's even a big stage where any member of the audience can be a rising star! The food, all free and ample!! You can gorge yourself on fun!! Doesn't that sound like a swell dream?"

Rollo deadpanned. "If by 'dream', you mean dreadful. To encourage casting aside one's inhibitions to indulge in all manner of vices... Your establishment is no paradise. It is a den of depravity, hell masquerading as heaven.”

"Eh?"

The strong hostility seemed to throw Fellow for a loop, gave him pause. He fumbled for a moment before finding his words again.

"My, my! Your allergies are worse than I thought...! Every kid needs to kick back one in a while, and you most of all! Since we're such good friends now, I would be more than happy to gift this prized ticket, good only for tomorrow, to you free of charge!" He winked, giving a theatrical twirl of his cane. Stars and sparkles exuded out from it. A small charm, a harmless trick. "No need to thank me!"

Rollo's eyes flashed, instant recognition setting him on edge. Similar items infested the City of Flowers every Topsy Turvy Day—enchanted handkerchiefs, tambourines infused with meager magic.

Disgust roiled through him.

"We have no such friendship," Rollo snippily corrected him. Is this man delusional? "Furthermore, tomorrow is a school day. It wouldn't do to miss it in favor of gallivanting."

“Now, now, I insist!!” Fellow pressed. “Please accept this ticket and take a load off, enjoy yourself. Live a little, laugh a little! The last thing I would want is for you to miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity!! Skipping a single day of school wouldn't be too harmful for a star-studded scholar like yourself."

His gaze flicked to Gidel. The two shared a keen glint, a subtle signal, then broke out into a show, a flurry of tap dancing along the pier.

"Trade in your typical for somethin' magical!” Fellow cried with the tip of his top hat. “Where it’s covered in all the colored lights!! Where the runaways are runnin’ the night!”

Gidel fished out a party popper from under his own headwear. When he tugged on its string, crackles filled the air, the popper letting loose a shower of glittering particles. Fellow belted out a hearty laugh, swinging his cane to catch confetti.

"Come on to the theater!!” he urged—mostly likely reciting some park motto, Rollo ventured. “In Playful Land... Life is Fun!!"

Fellow struck a pose with his arms thrust out, punctuating the performance. Gidel was less dexterous, and settled for an awkward approximation of the same pose.

Expectant for applause.

“… Charming display,” Rollo remarked dryly. He picked out a limp streamer from his hair. With a huff, he blew the remaining confetti off of him. “However, only a blithering fool would accept such a dubious offer. Is that what you take me for, Mr. Honest? A blithering fool?”

Fellow recoiled, his ears flattening, and his bravado faltering. Gidel glanced at the older man, soulful eyes full of worry.

"You must have fantasized about a day off before! Don't you want to get away and forget about your work and worries? Don’t you crave freedom?”

"No."

"What of the desire to chase thrills? To see and to experience what few others have before, or to relive a childhood you've perhaps never had? Don't you want to cut loose? Go crazy? Party all day?"

"Never."

"How about stardom? Play a different role? Have you a longing to stand upon a grand stage, hundreds of thousands of adoring fans applauding your passionate performances?"

"Not once."

His patience wore thin like a braided rope down to its final connecting threads. Rollo tapped a finger against his folded arms. "Are you finished? I tire of my precious time being wasted. If you will kindly excuse me."

He turned back toward the town. Rollo was a few steps along a shop-lined street when, suddenly, the odd duo reappeared. They skidded to a panting stop before Rollo, walling off his path. Well, more Fellow than Gidel.

A look of annoyance ripped across the fox’s face. “HOLD ON!! What kind of person plays hard to get and then walks away from a conversation like that?! Would it kill you to stop and just listen to me, you bra…”

Fellow petered off midsentence and backpedaled, smoothing out his spite into a smile. "...aaave soul! I've yet to meet someone as assertive and as self-assured as you are.” He reached out and brushed off an invisible fleck of dust from Rollo’s robes. Simpering. “You're a man that knows exactly what he wants!”

Rollo bristled. He hadn't missed the sudden shift in his chummy behavior. All the more reason to suspect them. They’re very clearly up to something.

"Yes, yes, I can see it now!" Fellow continued, stroking his chin in contemplation. "What you seek is not amusement! You’re longing—no, aching—for something far greater, more ambitious!"

He leaned into Rollo's ear, cupping a hand to it. Gidel came from the other side, staring up curiously. Fellow’s voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Power, perhaps? The magical kind, even.”

Rollo visibly stiffened.

“Oh, have I got your attention?” The curve of Fellow’s mouth cocked, going crooked. A triumphant smirk. “You’re interested, I know it! Buried in those bones of yours, there's an ache, a thirst, for knowledge that you can't ignore!"

The fox wiggled a finger, his words rapt with wonder. “Playful Land is the product of maaany wise and talented mages! If you pay us a visit, you might be able to learn a thing or two from observing how we run the show. It's a valuable learning opportunity for a student of an arcane academy! How about it, kid? This surely is a deal you wouldn't want to pass up!!"

There was no indication of any feeling in Rollo's face. His eyes had glazed over, as though haunted, a veil shrouding his vision. He stared at Fellow as though he were a distant phantom.

Spin, spin. Fellow's cane did a little dance of its own. "Think of it: the fire, the freedom, the flood of magic. Blinding and outshining anything that you could know!"

Fire.

Rollo blinked. The veil lifted, and the man was rudely roused from an awake slumber. Neutrality replaced with a kindling emotion, sparse embers that did not yet know they would converge into flames. "... What did you say?"

"Everything you could ever want. Everything you could ever need," Fellow tapped the waiting ticket, "is here right in front of you. This is where dreams are made, where the impossible comes true: Playful Land. This is where you want to be—"

The fire flared, bile rising from his throat. Beneath his skin, blood came to a rapid boil. Hot, screeching, an intense fever pitch. The heat like a knife slashing through strings.

Hands lashed out, fervently seizing Fellow's arms. Rollo clutched onto him, a desperate parishioner to a priest preaching at the pulpit. But there was no such blind devotion in his expression, only something wild, untamable, twisted.

“What did you say?!” Rollo hissed, low and dangerous. Threatening.

Gidel jumped and skittered behind Fellow, hiding himself from view. The fox's hand found its way to Gidel's back to support the trembling boy.

"You've been mouthing off for quite some time, and I've been far more patient than you deserve." Rollo cut to the mustard yellow sleeve clinging to Fellow's leg. "You have a child with you. Refrain from spouting such ridiculous vulgarities in front of them.”

“Wh-What…!!”

“Is this the game you play?” Rollo’s grip tightened. Voice hoarse, a pained shudder threading through it. “Tempting children with the promise of whimsy and fun, encouraging them to be intoxicated by magic...!"

While you stand by, doing nothing.

An untimely demise by magic, a fate he knew all too well.

Consumed alive in a hellish inferno. Only a curtain of smoke and ash remaining. Slipping through his grasp when he was standing right there.

Brother...

Hot tears stung his eyes—but they dissipated near instantaneously, staved off by his burning fury. Anger and upset rapidly overtaking him.

Not again. He would not stand for it to happen, would not surrender. This, he swore, with a resolute breath, and cried out with all of his seething soul.

"Hmph! I thought you witless before, but it seems you are not a clown," Rollo spat. "You are the entire circus."

Fellow gave a light, cumbrous chuckle—but his eyes narrowed. Gone was his cheer, his merrymaking. What remained was serious, astute. "... Hey now, that's a scary face you're making. Is this really how you want to spend your days? Let's lighten up a little."

A bitter scoff sounded.

“Continue this farce, and I will not stop at raking you across the coals," Rollo warned darkly. Fire licked his fingertips, close to bursting free. "I will show you just how scary I can be. The righteous flames of judgment are cleansing. They will purge all sin, reducing the wicked to mere specks of ash."

He released Fellow with a slight shove. The older man fell back a few steps, finding his balance again when Gidel pushed him upright with a silent grunt.

“If you understand, then I will be on my way. Good day to you.”

With the path cleared, Rollo stormed right by them. Robes billowing in a passing sea breeze and austere face to the town, he almost looked the part of a hero emerging triumphant from battle.

Back to his everyday life, the same side as always.

Fellow gaped after the boy’s retreating figure. At the prey slipping away from every carefully placed trap he and Gidel had laid out for him.

"Well, I never...!!" he groused. A fresh, foul mood ripe like a rain cloud over his head, Fellow discarded his smile for a sneer. "HIIIIIIE~ What was up with that arrogant brat?!”

Gidel shrugged, his comedically large sleeves flopping as he threw his hands up.

"Damn it!!" The curse was out before Fellow could cut it off. "Next time I see that guy, I'll teach him a lesson for looking down on us!"

He angrily kicked at a soda can on the ground—abandoned by a wayward townsperson. With a CRUNCH, the can launched into a nearby lamp post, ricocheting off its base and bouncing back. The can connected with Fellow's kneecap. He yelped and seized his injury, trying to contain the pain.

Eyes blown open in alarm, Gidel rushed to him. The boy was waved off, Fellow's whimpers eventually dying down.

"My sulking worried you? … You're seriously too good for this cruddy world, Gidel," Fellow muttered, shaking his head. He ruffled the cat beastman’s mane of hair, the roughness of it grazing the unguarded pinkie poking out from his one damaged glove. "Never change, got that?“

Gidel bobbed up and down in agreement.

“Good.” Fellow drew himself up and adjusted his jacket. “Tch. Kids these days sure are spoiled rotten. You promise them the world and they still blow you off."

His thoughts settled on the boy from before. The remarks they had traded, the resistance the target had put up.

I thought a bit of magic would help loosen the kid up—but Life is Fun didn’t work on him, Fellow mused. I cast it so many times too. Between my magic and charisma, they usually cave so easily.

Yet Rollo had regarded him like a man possessed, had regarded him with such hatred. The mad, tormented look in his face. An iron barrier against the fluttery, champagne laced lull of his spell.

"... Must be somethin' wrong with him," Fellow concluded. All kinds of fucked up in the head and in the heart. "Yup, that's gotta be it! This Fellow-sama's way too cool to be outdone by any old student.”

Again, Gidel nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s alright, there’s bound to be flops! We’ll have to pick out our next mark much more cautiously.” Fellow shaded his eyes and squinted. “Let’s see…"

Gidel trailed after his gaze. Combing through a crowd for easy pickings was child’s play for Fellow, but the young boy struggled to hone in on the monotony of minute details. Little nervous tics and hesitations, chinks in armor to exploit. They were present, but Gidel’s eyes were like a broken camera. Zooming in, then out, blurring, never able to fully focus.

His attention strayed, slowly meandering back back to the piers. The sea was a simple thing compared to the town—natural, unrestrained. So easy to understand.

“Maybe that one… no, no, that would never work,” Fellow mumbles to himself. “They’re in too large of a group to comfortably break through. The girl over there? Tsk, the parents are hovering, can’t risk that…”

His eyes ran along the bustling town and along the docks. Like fingers along book spines or piano keys, a quick, light caress. Effortless.

Then he came to a full stop.

Did a double take.

And stared.

Hard.

There, lazily parked by the piers, was a small gang of boys, each dressed in the same smart black blazer and trousers, vests and armbands an assortment of colors. Tucked into their breast pockets were fountain pens topped off with magestones. Their style, those emblems, famous.

Fellow smacked Gidel’s back, snapping the boy to attention.

“Look alive, Giddie! You see that?” He pointed with his cane. “Those uniforms are…!”

His face lit up with understanding. Mouth ajar, eyes wide, brows raised.

“We’re in luck today!” Fellow snickered. He tugged on Gidel’s sleeve, yanking the youth to him. “Hurry, let’s get in front of them! We’ll cut them off, pretend as though we’ve bumped into them by accident. Then, we pounce…!!”

Gidel lifted his hammer—a cheer.

The duo scampered down the street, hearts drumming in their chests and adrenaline pumping. In that moment, they brimmed with all the hope and the excitement that Rollo had failed to exhibit. They were children racing to a dream destination, fools wishing upon stars.

Elsewhere in the town, someone sneezed.

Rollo pressed his handkerchief to his nose, retreating further into his robes. “… The weather suddenly took a turn for the worse. What an ominous omen.”

[aluveras]

The avengers quest

Peter Parker x Fem!reader

Also she is a Stark.

A/N: This took very long for no reason other then that i couldn't finish it for the life of me. I tried my best to write the characters as i think they'd be but i feel eeryone writes them diffrently so...

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of sex, established relationship, Peter being an anxious cute guy, protective Tony (i am a sucker for fics with protective dad Tony), One daddy joke (once again a sucker for a daddy kink but it's only mentioned once) and i think that's about it

____________________________________________________

You and Peter have always felt something for each other.                                                                                You first met when your dad said he wanted introduce to his teenage intern, which you were surprised by. He never interacted much with teenagers besides his daughter.

When you first saw each other you both felt something through your entire body. The feeling couldn’t exactly be described but it was sort of like a need to get closer to each other both physically and emotionally.

After you two met you would sometimes see him in the lab and after a while just started to hang out and watch movies or play videogames. Though you thought you both felt something Peter hadn’t made any move, so you decided that he probably didn’t like you.

That was until you told him you were going on a date with a guy and in a fit of jealousy he told you how he felt.

After that you two decided that you would try dating but keep it a secret for now so it doesn’t change anything at the compound.

For now things were going well. Your father hasn’t found out anything yet and  you hadn’t got the idea that any of the avengers knew (Natasha and Wanda excluded cause their THE besties).

You were watching a movie in the afternoon when you heard a knock at the door.                                        As you opened the door there stood Peter leaning on the side of the doors frame turning to you with a smirk.

‘’Hey baby, did you order a big pizza with some sexy spider toppings?’’

You broke out laughing/cringing while he was happy he made you laugh.

‘’No, I ordered a akward boy who can stop a bus with his bare hand, but can’t take my bra off without me having to turn around.’’

‘’That’s easy for u to say, you wear one every day I have no experience.’’

‘’No that was very clear.’’

As you both walked over to your bed you guys got into a cuddling position. Legs tangled, your head on his chest and his arms around you. It started it off with a kiss on your head which let to a kiss, which let to a make out session. As you straddled his lap he started to take off your bra.

‘’Hey! You did it!’’

‘’Thank you, thank you. I’d like to thank my aunt and Mister Stark and-‘’

‘’You’re really talking about my dad, while we’re doing this?’’

Peter smiled apologetically ‘’sorry..’’ he mumbled

‘’It’s okay, only because you’re so cute.’’

As you continued the door suddenly flew open.

Both you and Peter looked to the door in horror.

‘’Pocket sized stark and Spiderling?!’’

‘’Pointbreak?!’’ ‘’Thor?!’’ both you and peter were scream whispering.

It was silent for a few seconds.

‘’So, I’m just gonna go.’’

Thor turned around and just left without closing the door.

After a few seconds of you staring at the door Peter started kissing you neck again.

‘’Peter….’’ You whispered.

‘’Hm.’’ He hummd.

‘’Are you for real right now?’’

‘’What? I just wanna kiss you so bad.’’ He whined and putt your bra on right.

‘’Thor’s gonna tell everyone!’’ You said as you got off peters lap.

‘’There’s nothing you can do about it now. It’s a Friday so he’ll go to a bar and drink                            and fall asleep on his bed absolutely drunk and won’t tell anyone.’’’

‘’The best you can do now is kiss me because I’ll die if I don’t get to kiss you more.’’ Peter said with a bit of a desperate voice

‘’Fine, but if he tells someone drunk, he can also tell everyone we’ve broken up.’’

‘’Then he can also tell everyone I passed away because I can’t live without you.’’

You started to fight off the smile that just wouldn’t go away.

‘’You’re so cheesy.’’

You straddled his lap again and took off your top and bra.

‘’Hey, I was finally starting to get the hang of it.’’

‘’Yeah, yeah just take off your clothes and fuck me already.’’

‘’Yes ma’am.’’

As you went to get breakfast the next morning (Barely being able to walk).                                            You see Thor standing in the kitchen trying to figure out how the microwave works.

He saw you and his face looked like you’ve saved his life

‘’Hey pocket sized Stark, do you know how this weird thing works?’’ You had to hold in your laugh as you said.

‘’Hey pointbreak, yeah I’ll help you IF you do something for me in return.’’

‘’Of course milady, what is it?’’

‘’Well you remember when you walked in on me and Peter-‘’

‘’’Having sex? Yeah of course! But don’t worry its totally a normal thing and luckly I know Peter doesn’t have a small-‘’

‘’NO that’s not what I meant! I just need you to not tell anyone about us.’’

‘’Uhm.sure but you might wanna talk to Sam aswell about it.’’

‘’WHAT?!’’ You groaned. You knew you shouldn’t have listened to Peter and just immediately have followed Thor. You showed Thor how the microwave works and he thanked as you quickly started sprinting away to find Sam.

You spend some 5 minutes running around the compound to find him                                                 infront of the tv with bucky. Sam layed full wide across the couch with Bucky standing next to the couch with his hands in his pockets. As they saw you Sam started screaming ‘’Peter! Peter! Yes!’’

‘’Yes?’’ Peter asked as he walked in. Seeing you stand there he immediately knew why they said that and started blushing from embarrassment.

You rolled your eyes and said.

‘’Ha ha very funny. Now I need you guys to not tell anyone before my father finds out.’’

‘’You might wanna talk to Steve then…’’

You groaned annoyed and started to search for Steve with Peter running close behind you.

‘’Did you talk to thor?’’

‘’Yes and he told Sam, and Sam told Bucky and Steve. So now I have to talk to Steve’’

‘’We, I’ll go with you.’’

‘’Alright, just don’t slow me down.’’

‘’Yes ma’am.’’

After a while you found him in the gym working out. Probably breaking another gym equipmrnt.                                                  You stopped and stared for a bit at his muscles.

‘’Wow make it more obvious you want him more then me.’’

‘’Alright calm down, you are the reason I cant walk properly and also like you don’t stare at Natasha.’’

‘’THAT WAS ONE TIME! I stare at you constantly you can ask that to her!’’

‘’It’s fine, she would eat you anyway if you hurt me or try to flirt with her.’’

‘’Ha ha.’’

‘’I’m not joking.’’

‘’Don’t you have to talk to Steve?’’

‘’We right?’’ Peter rolled his eyes which you chose to ignore.

You walked in and Steve immediately said.

‘’I know you’re here to talk about me not telling anyone about you two.’’

‘’How?’’ both you and Peter said.

‘’Sam texted me and saying and I quote ‘The love-insects are on the move’.’’

‘’PLEASE tell me you didn’t tell anyone.’’

‘’Only Natasha’’

‘’Oh great, she already knew’’ you sighed in relief. Peter immediately whipped his head towards you

‘’Wait you told her?!’’ Peter asked.

‘’Yeah well she knows about everything, also Wanda knows by the way.’’

‘’Of course..’’

Suddenly Steve interrupted you two.

‘’Oh and I also told Bruce!’’

Just as he said that FRIDAY started speaking out of your phone.

‘’Mr. Stark requests you and Peter appearance in the lab.’’

‘’Why don’t I just go jump out of a window?’’ Peter asked

‘’No, I can handle my father’’ You said.

‘’I can’t.’’

______________________________________________________________________________

You both walked into the lab. You walked in confidently you were ready to defend you and Peter’s relationship. Peter however was shaking. He held your hand in a death grip as you walked in.  Afraid it might the last time he gets to.

As you walked in your father was leaning on a desk with a disapproving look on his face.

You felt Peter get more anxious the closer you got.                                                                                           As reassurance you gently squeezed his hand and you felt him get just a little less tense.

Tony looked at your collided hands and start shaking his head.

‘’So, it’s true.’’

As Peter wished Nat would come in and eat him already, you knew that as cringy as it                    is, your father just wants what’s best for you. You let go of Peter’s hand                                            and he took that as a sign to step back a bit and  leave you two to talk.

‘’So, I putt a roof above your head and you decide to repay me back be lying to                                     me for about how long?’’

‘’I’m so sor-‘’ Your dad cut you off dramatically with a hand infront of your mouth.

‘’How. Long.’’

‘’6 months.’’ He once again dramatically sighed and called Peter forward.                                                Your boyfriend looked like he was about to shoot webs out of his butt as he slowly shuffled   forwards.

‘’So, I give you your superhero dream and YOU repay me by sleeping with my daughter.’’ 

‘’Excuse me Sir, but you know its not just about sex.’’

‘’Alright well, you didn’t have to confirm what we do.’’

Peter ignored what you said as he looked at you and smiled

‘’She’s my everything. Whether I’m angry, sad, happy or confused about what I’m feeling, when I look at her. I feel my chest glowing, like it’s going to explode. I can’t fight off the smile that grows on my lips when I see her laugh. And yes I do have a physical attraction but even then I’m trying to be focused on her needs the most. It feels like everything I do is for her and in return I get that glowing feeling and strong smile.’’’

‘’Can you get more cheesy?’’ Tony said with an eye roll.

‘’Just because you can’t be romantic doesn’t mean its cringe.’’ You said

‘’Oh please, you believe that? I mean I love the kid but I saw in his google search ‘’Y/n Stark hot pictures’’ I will never get over that.’’ You giggled a little.

‘’What I said was true and Sir I would love your blessing to date your daughter.’’

‘’You don’t need his blessing to date me, I love him but it’s my love life.’’ You said reassuring him

‘’I know my love, but let me at least try to kiss your dad’s ass.’’

It wasn’t quiet for long with you trying to hold in your laugh, your father trying not to send Peter to an early grave and Peter saying as quickly as possible.

‘’Heard it as soon as I said it , just leave it alone.’’

‘’Let’s leave this all alone and have you two stop whatever you’re doing.’’

‘’Sir, you know there is no other guy that can treat and protect your daughter better then me.’’

‘’Alright, one dinner. Where in you will show me how you will treat my daughter perfectly AND if I then give you my blessing I will not HEAR or SEE any things past a little kiss.’’

‘’Sir yes sir!’’ Peter said very happily since he can now finally show off his girlfriend to the people that matter to him.

You yourself felt very happy. You and your father actually have a great relationship and because of that he’s very protective of you. You felt bad having to lie about something important in your life or more someone.

‘’Thank you so much daddy!’’ You said as you hugged

‘’What are you thanking me for?” Peter said

‘’Forget the dinner. I would rather say captain popsicle is a mediocre man then ever see you two again in the same room. Breathing the same air.’’

[diaryujin]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒

summary: ahn yujin was a name you didn't want to hear ever since your break up three months ago. sure, it hurt at first, but now you were okay, you were over her. until she gave you a letter.

genre: angsty fluff

includes: panic attacks (happens twice), parties, mentions of alcohol (reader doesn't drink) and making out, all of lsrfm and ive except leeseo and eunchae, lizrei side ship, reader is in denial, angst with a happy ending, exes to lovers, lmk if i missed anything

pairing: ex! yujin x ex! fem! reader

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this took way longer to type down than i'd like to admit

With shaking hands, Yujin gave you a small envelope before dashing off in the opposite direction. Your heart leaped as you guessed what it was.

Yujin was your ex. It had been three months since you both ended things. She told you that she didn’t feel like she was in the right mindset to continue being in a relationship anymore. While you were grateful that she didn’t just ghost or ignore you completely, damn right did that hurt. What was worse was how you couldn’t really blame anyone for this since it was no one’s fault.

You had moved on though. You had bandaged up your wounds, and the ghosts that haunted your which reminded you of her had been exorcised. 

You were ready for this letter, but you weren’t going to read it on campus. Shoving the envelope in your purse, you walked out. Autumn was evident — leaves were turning orange, brown and yellow, falling out of trees and flying away with the gentle, cool breeze. You pulled the beanie you were wearing more over your ears, not wanting them to go cold. The sound of soft, calming music playing in your earphones accompanying the visual treat your eyes got to see made you smile to yourself and momentarily forget about Yujin and her letter. Upon reaching your dorm, you took out the dorm key and unlocked it, seeing the living room pristine as usual. Trust Rei and Wonyoung for that. You went into your room, which was a stark contrast. Throwing your purse and bag onto your bed, you flopped into your chair in front f your desk exhausted. It was a Friday, which meant that you had the weekend to do your work (or procrastinate), so you stayed in your chair in an odd position, almot like a ragdoll.

Your eyes darted to your purse and you sighed.

Yujin.

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ a voice in your head said.

‘But satisfaction brought it back,’ another one argued.

You reached out for your purse. If you didn’t read it, you’d be in the dark about what Yujin wanted to tell you, and it’d be rude to ignore her and what she wanted to say. Your fingers traced the edges of the white envelope, as if scared to read the contents. Slowly peeling off the seal, you undid the flap and pulled out the paper inside. You unfolded it carefully, heart beating quic-

“Y/N, Y/N, me and Wonyoung are going to the mall to get some new clothes. There’s a limited edition collection. You coming?”

This could wait. A distraction was exactly what you needed.

“Sure. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“The outfit you came back in is fine.”

“Bu- Wait, you saw me?”

“Duh?”

“Oh. Alright then.”

Placing the envelope in your desk drawer, you took your purse again, before opening the door of your room. Rei and Wonyoung were waiting in the living room, Rei giggling at her phone and Wonyoung teasing her about it. Their outfits fit them and their personality perfectly, and for a minute you felt self conscious. Their fashion sense was to die for.

“Ah, Y/N! Ready?”

“Yep. Wonyoung, I really like your shirt. It’s cute.”

She smiled sweetly at you.

“Thank you. Yujin bought it for me.”

Your face froze at the mention of her, and Wonyoung (being the caring person she is) immediately apologized.

“Ah, sorry. I know things aren’t all…smooth sailing…with you guys.”

She grimaced at her own mistake, but you didn’t notice. You were thinking about the letter, and your mind was tracing back to the memories of the year you were together, and oh God, oh God-

“Y/N?”

You could feel her hands on your shoulders, concerned eyes looking down at you.

“You’re shaking…”

She hugged you tight in a moment so rapid you barely felt it. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, one of her hands patting your head like a mother comforting her child. Rei was nearby too. You didn’t see their faces, since your eyes were closed shut so that you could prevent your tears from falling, but you could hear Rei softly talking and reassuring you that everything was okay, a stark contrast to how she usually was.

“Y/N, listen to Wonyoung’s breathing, okay? In and out…in and out. That’s it, that’s it. Nothing’s going to happen, you’re just fine.

They didn’t know what else to say. Neither of you did anything wrong, and Yujin was their friend too. It was a confusing thing to handle.

“Y/N, how do you feel now? Do you still want to come?”

“Yeah. Need to take my mind off things.”

“You sure?”

“Mm.”

“Not a clear answer.”

“I am.”

Rei sighed before nodding.

“If you’re okay.”

Five hours.

You were at the mall for five hours.

And it sure as hell did take your mind off things.

There you were in your room — stomach satisfied, bags with clothes, stationary and other random items (maybe a plushie or two) in the corner, yet your mind was still restless. Delaying the reading of the letter was not a good idea, since now you had even more nerves than before. You had to open it at some point, but holy shit could you just not do it? You took out the paper inside and unfolded it slowly, your hands shaking as much as Yujin’s when she gave it to you.

Dear Y/N,

It’s been three months. I thought I moved on, really.

As I write this to you, I realize I haven’t.

I’m not asking you to take me back, but I can’t sleep properly at night because I think about you and cry so much.

~ Yujin

Your eyes widened, and your jaw dropped. You thought you had healed, but this? These three sentence ripped off the bandages and rubbed salt into the wounds in your heart. You put the paper on your desk, wanting to process what you just ‘blessed’ your sight with, although your brain begged you to read it again. In the end, you gave in and read through it again.

And again.

And again.

And then it hit.

Yujin still loved you. It was so simple with the way she wrote it, but due to the shock factor, it didn’t click.

Yujin still loved you.

No wonder she was shaking.

There was another question — did you still love her too?

Didn’t you move on?

Didn’t you?

Or had you been lying to yourself this whole time?

Leaning back in your chair, you started thinking. You would think about her every night, every time you were bored, every time you were free, every time you were stressed — basically, all the time. You’d think about how she’d hold you, comfort you, hug you, kiss you, cuddle you, talk to you, laugh with you, cry in front of you, vent to you…and more.

Whenever you found yourself in an unideal situation, your mind always darted back to Yujin. ‘What would Yujin do?’ was something you’d ask yourself when you were in hot waters. 

Maybe you weren’t over her.

Maybe you still needed her.

Scratch that maybe.

You still loved her.

This realization — this enlightenment — shook you to the core.

The world was spinning around you. You desperately needed her. You needed her with you, to hug you, to calm you down and to tell you that everything was going to be alright. 

But she wasn’t here, she wasn’t here.

Interrupting the loud and muddled thoughts in your brain causing havoc was a soft knock at your door. 

“Y/N-ah? Can I come in?”

Hastily shoving the envelope and letter in your drawer, you call out.

“Sure, Rei!”

You saw the door handle slowly move, and the girl entered. Her eyes scanned the room, before finding a spot to sit on your bed. You tried to act cool, willing your eyes away from the drawer.

“Y/N, how are you feeling now?”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot, honestly- but right now I’m referring to the slight panic attack you had earlier…?”

“Oh, that. I’m fine, I swear. Yujin’s name just brought back back memories, and- I don’t really know.”

She nodded, her face making it evident that she was lost in her thoughts.

“So the reason I came here is to ask you something.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a party happening tomorrow evening Wonyoung’s not going because she wants to complete her assignments, and I don’t want to go alone…”

She pursed her lips into a thin line and looked at you, a tad bit of hope in her eyes.

“I mean, sure.”

“It’s going to be in Yujin’s dorm…Gaeul and Chaewon are hosting it. I’m pretty sure that Yujin won’t be coming out of her room though.”

That made you freeze. Even though Rei had mentioned that it was unlikely that you’d see her, there was still a chance you would.

Did you want to risk it?

Rei had no one else.

Things could either go spectactularly right or horribly wrong.

“I’ll come.”

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

“You’re sure sure?”

“I’m sure sure.”

You laughed a little, and she smiled too.

“Tomorrow, 7 p.m. Wear something…party-ish, but not too formal, I guess? You know what I mean.”

“Yup.”

6:45 p.m.

You were sitting on the couch of the living room, wearing an outfit you deemed appropriate for the party. Rei was still getting ready in her room, so to pass the time you were on your phone, scrolling through your Instagram feed.

Chaewon. Like, comment.

Gaeul. Like, comment.

Wonyoung. Like, comment.

Jiwon, Rei. Like, comment, cute.

Yujin.

She didn’t post anything fancy or pictures of her going outside or having fun.

It was just selcas of her wearing her new headphones. She had her favorite lipgloss on, her hair was in a bun and she was wearing her glasses in the pictures.

10 minutes ago.

She probably wasn’t going to be in the party then, since her outfits for parties were completely different.

You should have been sighing in relief, but no — you felt your heart sink from disappointment.

Yet, you were staring at the pictures. She looked adorable, and she was smiling brightly in the last picture, and damn it you were falling for her all over again.

If you weren’t down bad before, this cemented it.

You wanted to see her smile, you wanted to see her face right in front of yours, not on an Instagram picture that didn’t fully capture and present her beauty. You wanted to see her laugh because of you. You wanted her to be with you, and it hurt.

You quickly turned off your phone as you heard footsteps. Rei came in, shining with excitement. She looked stunning. You grinned at her.

“Trying to impress someone?”

Her face turned red, and she looked away from you.

“Uh…um…”

“Is Jiwon coming? Your precious Liz?”

She was cosplaying a tomato at this point, giving you your answer. Liz was a nickname for Jiwon that only Rei had permission to use, and bringing it up was how you could squeeze stuff out of either of them that they were unwilling to divulge at first.

“She is, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Cute. Love the Instagrm post too, by the way.”

“You saw-?”

“Of course.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m not stalking you both! I follow you girls, remember?”

She sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We should get going now, it’s 6:57.”

You realized how quickly time passed while you were staring at Yujin’s pictures. You stood up and walked out the door, not really expecting anything.

When you reached, the strong smell of alcohol hit your nostrils and you winced, not really liking it. You couldn’t back out now, however, so you just shrugged it off before sitting on the couch in the middle of the living room as people danced, socialized and drank all around you.

You didn’t know anyone at the party on a close basis save for Gaeul, Chaewon, Sakura, Yunjin, Kazuha and of course Rei. You preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small so that you wouldn’t be involved in any drama, although you liked hearing about it. You always thought it worked effectively, but now you were wondering what it’d be like to be on the dance floor with a few other friends.

Chaewon and Gaeul came over and talked to you at some point, but they had to leave after a while since they were the hosts and had attend to other guests. Chaewon told you that Yunjin and Kazuha didn’t want to come. Sakura was busy, so she couldn’t. Just like Wonyoung, you couldn’t help but think.

You were thirsty and they had arranged some juice in the corner for those who didn’t want to drink. You got off the couch, deciding to let the couple making out nearby have some space. You went over to the table with the juice, and you took a bit of time to choose what you wanted to drink. As you were troubling yourself with this very hard choice, you heard a quiet and groggy voice right behind you.

“Hey, can you pass me a cup of apple juice?”

Extremely familiar voice. Your fingers gripped the plastic cup in your hand tighter.

“Yu…Yujin?”

You turned around, and your guess was right.

There she was in full glory.

She had those headphones on, and was wearing an oversized shirt and sweatpants that looked comfy. You subconsciously tugged at the collar of your dress. Her hair was ruffled, and her eyes were red and puffy along with her face looking sullen, making it obvious that she had been crying before.

“Y-Y/N? I’m sorry, I-I’ll just get-get it my-myself-”

“No, it’s…fine. Apple juice, right?”

The tension was so thick that your 3rd grade English teacher’s ass was (quite literally) shaking. She nodded, and watched you pour her a cup. You could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to say something, and you guessed that it was about the letter.

Suddenly, you could feel her hand on your shoulder, before she gently pulled you close to her as she wrapped her arms around you in one of her familiar and comforting hugs. Her hand was in your hair, stroking it.

“Come, let’s go to my room. I’ll help you calm down.”

You didn’t say anything in protest, instead simply allowing her to take you. The two of you went inside her dorm room, and she closed the door, locking it. Your eyes darted around the four walls you were in, and your mind flashed with memories of that whole year you both had. You set free the tears trapped in the prison that was your eyes. She hugged you tightly again, her voice soothing.

“Y/N, darling, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

The petname she reserved for you, ‘darling’, slipped out of her mouth, as she always used to use that with you. She froze for a moment, but as she saw that you had no reaction to it, she relaxed. Back then she could call you that unabashedly, but now she had to be careful. You didn’t care though, you loved the way it rolled off her tongue.

After a few minutes, you had finally calmed down. You looked at the plastic cup in your hand, noticing that it was now half empty. You were sure that it was nearly filled to the brim before though. Your eyes trailed to Yujin’s shirt and you saw a few stains on it, solving the mystery of the missing juice. Were your hands really shaking that much?

“Um…sorry about the juice on your shirt.”

“Nevermind it. How do you feel now?”

You slowly moved the cup — now only contaning half of its previous content — to her free hand, but she gently pushed it back and tilted your hand upward, towards your face.

“You drink it.”

“But-”

“Drink.”

She smiled a little at you, and you were mesmerized. You probably looked like an idiot right now, gaping at your ex, but could you really care? She was here, in front of you, smiling at you, and your eyes darted to her lips almost instinctively, missing how they felt on yours.

“Y/N, how do you feel now?”

Obviously, you couldn’t stare forever.

“Better. Thanks Yujin, you…really helped.”

She tilted her head at you endearingly in her usual manner, her smile getting wider, although there was some sadness behind it.

"I missed you."

Her eyes widened, her facial features rearranged into surprise, confusion and a tiny bit of hope.

“You…missed me?”

You looked at your fingers, fiddling with them nervously. 

“Uh…sorry if it was a bit inappropriate to say rig-”

“No, no, no- don’t apologize, Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t mind.”

Her eyes looked deeply into yours, searching for something, searching for an answer. You knew what she wanted, and you took a deep breath.

“I…I read your letter.”

Her eyes widened, and her fingers intertwined with your desperately. You missed the feeling of her hand fitting perfectly into yours badly, and you didn’t realize that until now.

“And…? I’m not going to react harshly to anything you say, I just-just need an ans-”

“I want you back.”

Her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets at this point. Her face was full of disbelief.

“Re…Really?”

“Yeah.”

Gently taking the plastic cup from your hand before setting it on the nightstand near her bed (one you remembered well), she held the other hand too, a silly little smile on her face.

“Y/N, you don’t have to if you don’t wan-”

“But I do. I want you. I want whatever we had. I need it all back.”

Her smile reached her eye, squeezing out a few tears. One of her hands moved from yours to cup your cheek. 

“Thank you for giving me another chance, Y/N darling. I was scared of what you’d say, if I’ll be honest.”

You smiled at the familiar nickname, and inched a bit closer until your foreheads were touching. She giggled softly, a sound that warmed your heart.

In a quick movement, you felt her lips on yours in a small yet delicate peck, as if anything more would make you break. She pulled back, looking away shyly. Your eyes were wide, and your face was frozen in shock. Your lips were parted slightly for a moment, before you put a hand on her shirt collar and tugged it, making her jerk forward so that her lips could meet yours again. 

Just like that, you both were back in the old times.

[anglingforlevels]

Through the Mountains (Paranormal Investigator Reader x Yan!Creatures)

A small concept blurb about a paranormal investigator that attracts the supernatural. Reader is honestly having such a good time doing it that they’ve thrown the horror genre out of the story.

CW: Death, Light Body Horror, Not Proof-Read, Not really a story just a concept, Yandere (more suggested than shown in this), monsterfuckery, Reader's morality is dubious at best.

Minors DNI

Humans have always been both fearful and drawn by the unknown, looking to the vastness of space or the depths of the oceans. But we know very little about the earth we stand on – hidden in creaks and shadows, or sometimes even plainly in sight, lies the unknown, beckoning us forth.

And you have never been one to ignore a call.

Already from an early age, you had noticed things, oddities that set themselves apart from what others believed to be possible or real. You didn’t particularly believe in magic, anything could be magic as long as it was unknown, but you didn’t care much to unveil the science of these oddities either, you were simply enthralled by what you didn’t know.

And the unknown seemed enthralled by you as well.

From the curious pebble-figures there’d wander through the gardens to move rocks – and who had left many small presents for you to slithering and clicking creatures there’d cling to your shadow, melting it to the ground so that you were forced to stay.

All manners of creatures, from harmless to terrifying to downright confusing, flocked to you, which was perfect for someone with your enthusiasm. It was obvious you’d make use of this to study them in full, traveling around with your notebooks and gear, hoping to study a new oddity every day.

Some days were more difficult than others, some creatures more persistent than others. You were much flimsier than they were, happy to fly from one thing to the other, it was the way you preferred. One oddity was far from enough, you needed to see everything the world had to offer. They were much more content with just you, and rarely willing to let you go on your merry way.

Alas, as someone setting out to be an expert in this field, you welcomed the challenge. It only meant that you had to be thorough in learning about the creatures, as to foil their attempts at keeping you, so it wasn’t much more than further encouragement to you.

Besides, it was a fair trade-off for getting the chance to meet them to begin with.

You were tracking through the mountain forests presently, returning from the peak of the mountain, which you had visited to get some good readings and pictures of the place to better understand the habitat of the oddities who made this place their home. Though the equipment was heavier than you cared for, thus you had hired a helping hand from the local town at the foot of the mountain.

Tally, a fit twenty-something that had wanted the extra cash and had the needed youthful hubris to disregard the warnings of their elders, who had grown up with the tales of dangerous monsters and disappearing trekkers in the mountains. They had shrugged it off as old wives tales, and you were grateful for that, because every other young adult you had asked, had assumed it was wild animals.

They wouldn’t go far in life with that attitude, but you appreciated it greatly.

“How are you so familiar with the mountains?” Tally asked, as you decisively led the two of you through the terrain. It was a fair question, there was no man-made paths here, after all, people did tend to go missing in the mountains.

“Oh, I’ve been here before, but I usually never bothered with the village beyond restocking. But I needed extra muscle this time around.” You explained while fiddling with some of the pictures from the instant camera you also had brought along.

“See,” Tally said with a satisfied smile, “I knew all those stories were bu-“

You shushed them. “No swearing, remember?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Force of habit.” Tally apologized. When you had hired them, one of your set rules was no swearing in the mountains. “So, what exactly have you been studying since you visited here? Is there some kind of animal native to this mountain or something?”

“I don’t know about native, but most of them have probably been here longer than your village at least. At least, that’s what suggested by the stories your town tell.” You weren’t really paying much attention till you realized Tally had stopped up.

They groaned. “Stories? Don’t tell me you’re here to look for monsters.”

“Of course not.” You waved your hand dismissively, earning a sigh of relief from Tally. “I’ve already found them, well, most of them I’m guessing. I just wanted to know a bit more about their living habitat, I may not look it, but I’m a professional.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’ve been told that jokes aren’t my strong suit, so no.” You simply said, growing a little impatient at the fact Tally still wasn’t walking.

“Right… If these things were real, don’t you think you’d be dead by now.” It was a fair point, albeit Tally’s dry delivery hurt a little.

“Most of the things in this mountain only act if provoked, besides, they like me. Death is usually the only thing I don’t have to worry about, they usually try to take me rather than my life. But I’m very good at what I do, I don’t mess up, so I always manage.” At this, Tally lifted an eyebrow, looking perplexed and completely unconvinced.

” So, if you slip up, even once, you might be taken by any given one of these so-called "monsters"?"

“The quotation marks hurt a bit but yes. But what other choice do I have but to continue? Either risk being whisked away eternally to the obsessive whims of creatures who work on moral and biological systems beyond humanity’s ken or not go looking for weird creatures?”

“…See, that sounds like a very easy dilemma.”

“Exactly, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“This is so fucking dumb.” They sighed.

“Ah,” you sighed with a troubled smile, “Swearing is off limit in this forest, remember?”

“Huh? Uh, sorry it was a- grh!” They let out a pained grunt, their eyes traveling down to their legs, where something beneath their skins were rapidly crawling up their legs. They fell to the ground, howling in pain.

“Yeah, the thing in this forest really took that youth pamphlet about not doing drugs or swearing to heart, it considers swearing a sign of hostility.” You explained though they did not seem very interested in what you had to say.

“Do something!”

You scratched your neck awkwardly. You did feel bad, it looked very painful to watch small bulges and bony finger push against their skin, traveling upward their bodies. But… “It’s contagious at this point, I don’t want that thing in my body. Trust me, even when it’s not trying to kill, it’s a hassle.”

If they had a response to that, they never got a chance to say it, as their eyeballs were pushed out of their head and bony, tree-like fingers poked through their cheeks and mouth. They collapsed on the ground, the gear they had been carrying clattering to the ground.

“Guess this means I’m carrying all of this back myself.”

[coyotescribbles]

Dead Signal [Chapter 1/?]

*sigh* Did my squirrelly ass cave and add YET ANOTHER WIP to the Eternal Pile?

Yes. Yes I did. Thanks, Finding Frankie.

[CW for suicidal ideation]

~*~

There were a lot of things, Felicity Faustus mused, that had led up to standing in line to buy a bus ticket at three o'clock in the morning.

Like a decade and change spent trying to make it in broadcast media, but never actually going anywhere because they "weren't camera-friendly enough."

Like struggling to stay afloat as rent and bills continued to rise, while they were denied raises time and time again even as less-experienced coworkers advanced ahead of them and their other job applications continued to go unanswered.

Felicity had always been a scrapper - it had gotten them into trouble more times than they could count as a kid - but as the months crept by, they felt the fight leaving them as the proverbial water closed over their head.

They would have been lying if they'd tried to say that they hadn't been tempted to end it all more than a few times. The means to their end were plentiful, and it would have been easy to pick one and make use of it.

They'd just never been able to work up the guts necessary to do it.

Instead, they'd aimlessly gone looking for solace in their favorite cult game show, even as they sank deeper and deeper into despair. But cartoons and livestreamed events weren't much of a life preserver when the rest of their life was falling apart around them.

But then, just as they were teetering on the literal razor's edge, the semi-regular announcement was made that Finding Frankie was looking for another batch of contestants.

Four tapes. Four boxes of cereal.

And maybe, just maybe, Felicity had cracked, just a little bit.

In a fit of mad desperation, they'd run up their last remaining credit card buying cart loads of cereal and then, once that had maxed out, resorted to shoplifting even more cereal than they would ever be able to eat. They were pretty sure that they were on some kind of list for that.

They'd only had to open one, though. Just one, to make sure there was nothing hidden at the bottom. After that point, their kitchen scale had been their best friend, looking for one box that weighed a few ounces more than the rest.

The laser-focused obsession had paid off, after four whole months of diligent (obsessive) searching, when they'd finally scored that coveted VHS tape - and their ticket out of this hole in the wall.

(It had paid off for their neighbors, too. All the unopened boxes got dumped in the run-down "community room" of their slummy little apartment building, and they were always gone by the next afternoon.)

They'd spent half of a breathless, sleepless night tossing and turning after that, their heart hammering like thunder in their ears, before ultimately deciding that it didn't make sense to wait.

(It didn't matter that the show wouldn't be airing for another week, and they had plenty of time. Nothing mattered anymore, why should time?)

They'd rolled out of bed, taken a quick, cold shower and gotten dressed, then stuffed their wallet and cell phone into their thigh bag and their Swiss Army knife into their binder, grabbed their jacket, and hurried downstairs to catch a bus to the Port Authority terminal.

"What can I help you with?" The woman behind the counter sounded as exhausted as she looked.

"Can you tell me when the next bus to Dallas leaves?"

The woman stifled a yawn and turned her attention to her computer monitor, tapping away on the keyboard and squinting at the information that her query brought up. "…Eight-thirty A.M. There are only three seats left, did you want to reserve one?"

"Yes, please."

More tapping, more squinting; maybe she needed to schedule an eye exam, Felicity thought to themself.

"That'll be… Four hundred and sixty dollars and seventy-seven cents."

This time, they had to stifle a groan, fishing their wallet out and handing over their debit card.

It was going to use up most of the pitiful little emergency fund they had left in their checking account, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore - not the money, not the debt, not the job or the apartment or anything. Either they were going to win, and the prize money would make everything right again, or they were going to die, and none of their problems would be their problem anymore.

"Credit or debit?"

"Debit."

More tapping; it felt incessant now.

And then there were signatures to be signed, scrawled barely-legible onto the little OLED tablet screen.

And then the ticket was in their hand.

And, just for a moment, the weight of the world lifted off of their shoulders.

[dg-outlaw]

Acolyte Season 2 AU (or What Could Have Been)

*Season 1 spoilers* and My Thoughts.

So with Season 1 over, instead of reflecting on what was, I want to talk about what could've been. I imagine there's a plan for season 2 and part of my guess is that we'll get more into the Dark Side and the Sith with Osha's training with the Stranger/Qimir and their secret roommate, Darth Plagueis the Creeper. On the Jedi side we'll probably get into political conflict between the Jedi and the Senate, and have a 'What Do We Do With Mae?' subplot. But here's what I think could've been interesting...

From what I've seen online, a lot of fans enjoyed these two characters (Jecki Lon and Yord Fandar, pictured above), especially them together, which I think is a real loss for the show unless they are leaning more towards a Dark Side/Sith focused storyline for Season 2. If anything, that's one of my critiques of the show, even though I enjoyed it. Was the show about Osha and Mae, the Jedi, Sol and what happened on Brendok, or a mix with an ensemble cast? I think had the show been 12-15 episodes it could've successfully been all of the above, but with only 8 episodes I feel like none of those plotlines got enough attention or time to breathe and really hit. Again, I enjoyed the show and look forward to what comes in Season 2, but...

...what if Jecki and Yord had lived?

Season 1 could've still played out as it did and maybe Jecki and Yord were injured rather than killed or presumed dead in Episode 5 to further add to Sol's anguish. Though, with how badass she was, even just keeping Jecki alive could've been interesting for this AU idea. Here's why:

This first season ends with Vernestra basically throwing Sol under the bus. Yes, he made some major mistakes and he and the other 3 Jedi from Brendok covered up their secret for years because Indara thought it was the best course of action, but how would Jecki (and Yord) have taken that news? Their kind, gentle, and wise master a rogue Jedi who orchestrated some elaborate murder plot to cover up his past crimes? It wouldn't make sense to them (based on the Sol they knew) and I think you could have a whole noir-style investigation subplot with them not knowing who to trust in the Jedi Order, arguing about who to trust and whether they should doubt their masters, and wrestling with the realities and truth of Sol's past. Would they go to Senator Rayencourt or work with him to uncover the truth or would they wrestle with the idea that to uncover the truth it could unravel the whole Jedi Order?

Seriously, the buddy cop dry humor mixed with the drama could be so fun.

Then you add in Mae, who Jecki and Yord would be antagonistic toward at first, but then she'd become part of their little investigative team. Either way, Mae will likely want answers to who she is in Season 2, but the Jedi are likely to keep those answers from her and that would add another layer. Jecki and Yord would be forbidden from interacting with her or just not told about her until they saw her randomly in the streets of Coruscant with her Jedi security detail.

This would also setup a very interesting conflicts as you'd have Team Sith (Qimir, Osha, and Cave Roomie Plag), Team Sol (Jecki, Yord, and Mae), and Team Jedi (Vernestra, her Executive Assistant Mog, and other "red shirt" Jedi). I have no idea where Yoda would fit into all this, but maybe he'd secretly guide Jecki and Yord with vague Jedi wisdom because he's seeing some problems in his house that need to be fixed.

Also, Jecki would get a rematch with Qimir, a battle with Osha (similar to hers with Mae), and Yord... well, Yord would do battle and maybe die. Though, he and Mae could develop something as a mirror to Osha and Qimir, even if just a friendship (esp. if a Jecki/Mae thing happens), and that would give Mae conflict if it was Osha who killed him.

In the end, Jecki and maybe Yord (if he lives) would leave the Order, similar to how Ahsoka did in The Clone Wars. No matter what the outcome ended up being, it would shake their faith in the Order. Yoda would be the only one left who knew the truth, but with everyone believed dead or gone, it would be okay in his mind and Ki-Adi-Mundi could just be left in the dark for the sake of his Episode 1 quote about the Sith.

Obviously, Plagueis would somehow survive (unbeknownst to Yoda) and would later use what he learned about Osha and Mae to create Anakin as one of his experiments to achieve immortality, hoping to have a new body to transfer himself into. Sidious would be unaware of this as Plagueis would be aware of Sidious' intention to kill him and would've kept Anakin a secret b/c Sith be shady backstabbers like that. It wouldn't be until meeting young Anakin that Palpy realizes Anakin was that secret project Plagueis was working on but never told him about. Thus, his fascination with Anakin, Luke, and his later (sequel) attempts to use Rey in the same way.

[rashomonss]

“I would sell my soul for a bit more time with you…” with Barbatos, please!

I mean, it fits kind of perfectly with him, amiright?

omg it so does fit, and tbh if it’s one thing i love more than smut with barbs is angst with him (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

So sorry for the late reply to this I’ve been going through it lately but I’m finally good now! (I think) anyway enjoy! ♡

just a few more moments of your time…

Humans were fascinating.

Barbatos knew that much. However he never expected himself to get attached to a human; let alone the exchange student his lord brought to the Devildom.

So just what was it that was drawing him to them? It could possibly have been the persistence they had, to develop a better relationship with him, or maybe just sheer curiosity on his part, as to why everyone adored them so much.

No matter the case, Barbatos soon found himself swept off his feet by their presence as well.

He can’t recall the exact moment he started developing a fondness for them, but he can recall how his heart felt.

Whenever they’re near he can’t help but feel slightly nervous. Slightly more conscious of how he presented himself. It’s been so long since he ever felt such a way, so in a sense he enjoyed these giddy emotions you brought on.

At this specific moment in time he was in fact, truly happy, which of course shocked him at first. He had always prioritized Diavolo’s life and emotions above his own, so in turn he never felt the need to prolong his happiness. But of course, that all changed when you had come into his life.

He had truly enjoyed every moment he could spend with you. Ranging from you helping him in the kitchen to tea dates in the human realm, and especially intimate moments privately in his room. Barbatos wanted more of your time, he wanted more of your touch, and he wanted more of you.

He was content on spending more time with you, and he was overjoyed when you felt the same. So because of this a conversation arose and it was only then did he realize how truly different humans were from demons.

It was a subject he never thought would bring up a topic he wasn’t fond of but here you both were.

“Those tea leaves are truly divine. They’re absolutely perfect, down to the aroma and even flavor. I’d love to make some for you if I had the chance” Barbatos explained, as he ranted on to you with a small smile across his face.

You had laid your head peacefully on his lap as ran his gloved fingers through your hair and talked to you about tea and whatnot. There were times when Barbatos was talkative, and now happened to be one of those moments. Once you got him started with tea he ended up having a hard time trying to stop himself, it’s not that you minded though. Since you found his voice to be very soothing in general.

“I’d love to try them, but honestly any tea you make will always taste lovely” you smiled, letting your face fall into his thighs.

Barbatos smiled at your response and brushed a piece of hair from your face. “I promise to make you a cup when the next petals are harvested.”

“I can’t wait, when will that be?” You replied looking up towards him.

“In about a hundred years or so, the leaves are of high quality so they take time to be produced. However, the longer and more patient the tea leaves take to be made, the more exquisite the taste.”

This time you hadn’t replied to his statement. Instead your eyes fell on his beaming smile and you sighed in response. “Yeah I’d love to try them…”

The second the response left your mouth you wished to take it back, to tell him that you wouldn’t be able to, and he probably knew that as well. Barbatos was so caught up in the moment and the true excitement he felt to introduce you to something he loved that he hadn’t realized you wouldn’t even live to see it.

The conversation between the two of you continued however Barbatos soon realized you had become disengaged with the conversation long after the tea leaves had been brought up. He wanted to question you but couldn’t find the words to ask about your indifferent expression or the way your smile strained when he tried to cheer you up.

A few more moments of silence passed and Barbatos sighed moving a stand of hair out of your face again. “What’s wrong my dear? You seem to be upset in some way? Was it perhaps something I said?”

Your eyes went wide and you sat up slightly looking him in the eye. “No, no it’s not you, I assure you. It’s just…” you replied, then stopped yourself. Would he think you to be dramatic if you were still caught up on the whole tea leaves ordeal? You doubted it. This was Barbatos after all, he always understood, but a part of you really wanted to spend all the time you possibly could with him.

You had opted by beating around the bush about how to bring up the topic again, however before you could finish Barbatos picked up on what you were meant.

The thought stunned him for a minute but how could he possibly forget such an important factor? Humans have limited life span, that was just how they were created. He wanted to curse the shortened timeframe they had but nonetheless understood. That was the way of life, many different species have different concepts of time.

Yes he knew this, after all he deals with time itself.

Even with him knowing this factor why did it still create a hole in his chest when he pondered the thought of you leaving this world. What worried him the most was the thought of you leaving him.

Humans and demons grow older at different rates, with that in mind he couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving him alone. After it took him so long so find someone such as you.

If only you could stay with him. If only he could prolong your life slightly, even if it was just for another century. He didn’t want to think about saying goodbye just yet, not to someone he gave his whole heart to.

“I would sell my soul for a bit more time with you.”

Barbatos spoke, grabbing you softly by the waist. While moment was endearing you didn’t want him to give up a part of himself just so you could stay alive longer.

“I can’t accept that Barbatos. I don’t want you giving up a part of yourself for me” you replied, sighing softly.

“But MC if possible I’d like to prolong our time as much as possible”

You shook your head then looked back up to him. “As would I but I’m not going to let you do that for me. If we’re not able to spend any more time together then using the time we spend now I want to focus on the memories we make currently, rather then the ones we could possibly make in the future.”

“Even if we don’t have that long of a future left together I want to spend it like we have all the time in the world” you spoke, flashing him a smile.

The butler hugged you tightly without a word. If you wanted to spend the rest of your time with him then he couldn’t be more happy to spend whatever time he could with you.

Like you had mentioned even if you didn’t have all the time in the world it would be better to focus on what is in front of you rather then the future you both have together. He was going to make sure you felt as if you had all the time in the world, even if deep down he was terrified at the thought of saying goodbye.

[whumpzone]

Linden & Colton - Guard Dog AU #2

(masterpost)

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation

-

The walk to the bus stop was nicely cool. The trees were turning crisp and orange, whispering to one another every time the wind blew through them. Linden had his thin coat on, a chequered brown which reached his upper thighs, and every time he pulled it out from its long summer retirement he found some long-forgotten memento in its pockets; a piece of seaglass, or a train ticket, or a business card for a taxi company on the other side of the country. Col’s shoulders didn’t fit into any of Linden’s coats, so he was instead in a cable knit jumper and a scarf. 

“It’ll just be a quick trip into town, but I think it’ll be good to get out. I’m going to get you some weights so you can work out at home.”

Col’s serious expression faltered a little with surprise. “Really, Sir, that’s not necessary. I can train with anything.”

“Think of it as a nice treat, then.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you. How can I pay you back?”

Linden gave him a smile. “By carrying them instead of me.” 

They stopped and waited at the bus stop, the only two people there. Linden knew that Col hadn’t walked very far recently, and he didn’t want to put too much strain on his legs; they were streaked with scar tissue which sometimes caught the light and shone against the rest of his skin, which was in some places puffy and red, and in other places crossed with thin cuts which had turned a pale lilac. 

Col nodded. He always did so very quickly, often before Linden had even finished speaking. He had a strong suspicion that Col would get into terrible trouble if his old owner thought he wasn’t paying attention, and with the way he’d occasionally seen Col stare into nothingness, perhaps this had happened a lot. 

“It’s always busy, though, so we might need to sit separately. Is that okay with you, Col?”

He was relieved when Col paused, seeming to genuinely consider this. “Yes, Sir. That’s fine.” 

“If we do, you can take the seat further to the back. That way you can still see me. You’ll know that I’m alright, and you’ll be able to see when to get off.”

Linden cringed at sounding so self-important, but he knew it would be the first thing on Col’s mind. If this had reassured him at all, it didn’t show on his face. 

. . .

It’s not like I have a choice, thought Col. Other guard dogs, ones that were bigger and better and more trusted, would bark at someone to move, to let him sit by his Master. My place is at my Master’s side, he repeated in his head without fully thinking about it. The mantra was so old it came naturally now. But Col wasn’t good enough. Not even close. 

The bus rolled to a stop (after Col had flinched when Master put his arm out to hail it) and it was clear they would indeed have to split up. He found a seat towards the back as he’d hoped, and watched as Master flashed him a smile from up ahead. 

They made more stops than he’d anticipated, the geography of the bus changing each time, taking on parents pushing prams and letting off elderly women with dogs, until Col’s neighbour had motioned for him to let them get past and he had stood, ducking his head, watching them leave to make sure they didn’t do anything alarming near his Master. He moved to take the window seat.

This left Col with a space beside him, and his instincts told him to have his Master fill that space. But how? Col, who was still a new purchase and needed to prove himself, suddenly sagged under his self-doubt. He’d have to call out for him, or get up and go over, both of which would cause a scene. He’d be telling him what to do. He’d be assuming that Master even wanted to be sat next to him – maybe it was a welcome break, and Col was expected to keep him safe from this distance. Maybe trying to close the gap between them would seem weak. 

It still mystified him that humans hurt one another when pets existed, but it wasn’t for him to question. He wasn’t so naïve as to have forgotten about revenge, old grudges, power trips, terrorism, self-defence. And no one cared if their pet was killed. A lover or a friend would need to be sacrificed to really cause some grief.

He realised, stomach suddenly dropping, that if Master’s brother came to any harm, Col would have failed in his duties, would have failed to protect his owner. How could I guard Vik, too? he wondered. He’d have to find out where Vik lived, and familiarise himself with his entire neighbourhood, but he could hardly drag his owner along for this, so where would he get the opportunity? How would he ever be trusted after he had attacked him, anyway? Col felt stupid for even considering it. Master would probably judge that the biggest threat to Vik right now was his own pet.

He hadn’t realised how deeply he was considering this until a voice from the real world brought him back to the surface.

“Am I alright to sit here?” asked a young woman stood above him, and Col allowed himself just one second to realise that she meant the seat beside him, and more, that she was speaking to him directly. 

I asked you a question, his old owner said, so clear and commanding he could have been just behind him, and if you’re not gagged then I expect an answer. 

Except he wasn’t collared, or leashed, or gagged, and he wasn’t with his Master, and she wasn’t asking him to perform any of his normal duties as a pet. She didn’t know what he was, Col realised, giddy and scared at the same time. 

He nodded, not meeting her eye, and forced himself to speak. “Y-Yes, of course.”

“Thanks,” she replied pleasantly, and sat, pulling her satchel flat onto her lap. Col tried not to stare as she opened it and slid a laptop out. He pulled his gaze away, but a sudden movement caught his eyes yet again and he couldn’t help but look. His lifetime of training meant he had to look. 

Her laptop had a presentation on it, and with each slide the woman was gesturing, mouthing words silently. She was practising, Col realised. He suddenly felt himself so intrigued by this stranger’s life, just for a few seconds. This stranger who had spoken to him like a person. Was she a student? He didn’t dare read the words, he wouldn’t stare that brazenly, but he could see the unmistakeable shapes that only graphs made. A few rows in front of them both, Col’s Master sat safely, undisturbed. It was fine. Col hadn’t messed up by looking. 

This woman was going somewhere, with her normal human life, and it was as if a light switch had been flicked, the way Col became unbearably aware that every single person around him had a normal life of their own, too. Where were they all going? What were they thinking about? The bus was rattling down widening suburban streets. Each house would have an occupant, maybe even a whole family, or a couple. Were they happy? How many pets were there?

His fingers curled involuntarily as his training kicked in – any stretch of being lost in thought inevitably ended badly. Col blinked, again, again, as he heard his old owner screaming at him. 

You will LISTEN when you are spoken to, you slave, you useless piece of junk, you fucking dog. Pets do not have ‘thoughts’. You do not think unless it’s to follow orders. Do you fucking hear me this time? 

Yes, Master, Col thought, stamping out any more daydreaming. He fixed his eyes on the back of his current Master’s head and kept them there. 

Eventually, Master stood up, turning to Col just briefly to catch his eye, and the two stepped off.

“Was that alright, Col?” Master asked when they were both standing on the pavement, watching the bus rejoin the flow of traffic.

“Yes, Sir,” he said, thinking of nothing but his Master’s face before him. 

. . . 

As the pair walked through town, Linden noticed the space between them shrinking, until Col was almost pressed against his left shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, softly, and Col’s eyes darted to his. Nothing else changed, and Linden found it somewhat unnerving. Like a ventriloquist’s dummy. “Did you used to go out, much?” 

“No, Sir. The pub, or the racecourse, sometimes. I usually stayed in my cage.”

“But I thought you were a guard dog,” Linden said, his heart sinking when he saw the look on Col’s face. Okay, shouldn’t have said that.

“I am, Sir, I am. You can- you can trust me. I swear I’ll keep you safe. My old owner just… just had to get me trained, first. But I am trained, now.”

“Of course you are,” he said, feeling gross. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”

“Anything, Sir. I’ll do anything.”

“I know,” he said, trying to sound decisive. “I’m not going to get rid of you, I hope you can understand that.”

Col just nodded, but Linden felt like he had to ask this now, rather than let it fester.

“You were caged?”

Funnily enough, this didn’t seem to upset Col in the way he’d feared it might. Linden could almost describe the look Col gave him as quizzical. 

“Yes, Sir. I’m just a dog. But-! But I’m so grateful, so grateful for my- the bed, and the room. It’s very generous, Sir.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t own a cage and I’m not going to buy one. There’s no chance of that in my house.”

It wasn’t too busy in town, which was ideal. Their bus was always rammed, running through the main arteries of the district, but the hospital and the train station was where it spat out most of its cargo. It was term time, midweek, midday. Linden watched two cyclists wave to one another as they passed by. Turning to Col, he saw him looking at pigeons on a fence, one pruning the other. 

“Aw,” Linden said, making Col flinch. 

“S-Sorry, Sir. I’m paying attention.”

“I know. You can look. Oh, here, do you see that dog? He always sits in the window up there.”

Linden pointed past Colton’s face to a brindle whippet, which was curled up on a strategically placed dog bed, keeping an eye on the passers-by. “People call him Nosy Nigel.”

Linden wasn’t expecting a reply and he didn’t get one. Col nodded, then turned back to face the road. 

The curve of the hill had flattened during their ride, and this too would be easier for Col’s legs. 

“If walking becomes painful, you need to tell me,” Linden instructed him. “So we can go back home.” 

“I won’t let you down like that, Sir,” Col replied, keeping his voice neutral.

“It wouldn’t let me down,” he said, a little firmer. “I don’t want you to be in pain. Can you promise?”

“Yes, Sir. I promise.”

Now it was Linden’s turn to be quiet, and as they walked on, he thought he saw Col glancing at him, his eyebrows drawn tightly together.

-

Fifteen minutes later they were heading through the centre of town and Col had the boxed dumbbells held fast under one arm. Linden had made Col wait by the door to the sports shop when he paid, so Col wouldn’t be able to hear the price. They were hardly expensive, but he didn’t want Col to have it hanging over him. As they left, Linden didn’t think he’d been thanked so many times in his life. 

“We could get a coffee, if you fancy it,” Linden said, knowing they were about to pass his favourite cafe in town. 

“Yes, Sir, you should get whatever you like.”

“Would you like one?”

“I should keep one arm free, Sir, if that’s okay.”

Linden hummed an acknowledgement. That was good, he told himself. Col had told him what would make him most comfortable. He wondered what threats, if any, Col was picking out from their unremarkable walk around town. The cafe faced a small town square, in the centre of which was a once-grand statue of a general or soldier of some sort, with a traffic cone balanced on his head. Beyond him was a bakery, a newsagents, a chippy, a Polish grocer’s, in a neat row with houses on their second floors. It was normal - it was home. 

Their pace had slowed since they started out, and Linden decided to call it a day - he was well aware that Col would never admit if his legs were hurting. They’d done well - he got what he came for and Col hadn’t lashed out or scared anyone. 

“You know what… let’s head on home. We’ll both be able to have a hot drink in peace. Yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.”

. . .

Col grit his teeth, feeling his jaw pulse, forcing himself to ignore the ache steadily growing in his feet. The pain shot up his legs with each step. It felt like there were screws in his ankles, driven in good and deep, and even the smallest movement made them reverberate off his bones like a church bell. How could he stay alert? How could he be ready for anything, any threat, checking every angle and street and person they walked past? His head was spinning with the responsibility.

His foot came down hard. It took everything not to gasp in pain; he was aware he was slowing down, and the clock was ticking before Master noticed what a defective nothing he’d accidentally bought. 

I told you to admit it when your legs hurt, Colton heard Master say, his soft voice finally cracking in frustration. You thought you could hide it? That you’d carry on like this, trying to fool me, forever? 

Hurry the fuck up. I’ll decide what to do with you at home. 

Col saw possibilities playing in his mind like the young woman’s presentation. Each new slide carried a new, and equally likely, outcome once Master got fed up with him. The cage, the darkness, the whip, being thrown out entirely. The worst scenarios always ended with him alone and scared.

He came back to reality with his heart pounding. What had made him resurface? He looked over at his Master and saw that they’d come to a stop. Master was staring at something just behind Col’s head, squinting. 

“Oi, oi!” Col heard a familiar voice shout.

“I knew it was you!” Master replied, patting Col on the shoulder gently and indicating for him to turn around. 

Vik stopped his car in front of them, leaning out of his window with a smile. “Hey, guys. You alright? Done a tour of the town?”

“Yeah, just bought some weights,” Master replied, returning Vik’s casual wave. Col was frozen by his side, trying to find a neutral spot to cast his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do with aggravate Vik. 

“Oh, great stuff! I assume they’re for you, Col?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Col stammered, not expecting to be addressed directly. Wouldn’t Vik be sick at the sight of him? 

“We’re just heading to get the bus back,” Master explained. Vik scoffed.

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Col, you sit in the back, it’s cleaner back there.”

Col could see that the front passenger seat was host to a lanyard, an empty crisp packet, a phone charger and an unopened packet of socks. Master was already pulling open the door and laughing at the mess, which Vik breezily said he could push into the footwell. Col opened the back door and slid inside. 

“You’re going to lose all this stuff. It’ll go under the seat and you’ll never find it again.”

“I won’t, I’ve got a very complex system of storage going here. You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Where are you going, anyway?”

“Just the gym. Sounds like you’re gonna have a home gym set up pretty soon.”

“Oh yeah, premium spot. Hundred quid a month. I’ll be your personal trainer.”

“Ha! You’d be the worst personal trainer ever. You’d probably lie down on the bench and fall asleep.”

“You look like you’ve been sleeping in the gym, look at those flimsy arms. For shame.”

Vik laughed, hard, and Master laughed back. It was a sound Col didn’t hear very much, and he let himself enjoy it. 

The drive back to Master’s house really was incredibly short - Col reflected on the fact that Master probably only made them take the bus for Col’s sake, and cringed at the pure hatred he had for himself - and soon they were back inside, being welcomed in by Jaffa. 

“Go and sit on the stairs to take your shoes off, Col, it’s easier.”

Col couldn’t disobey, and as much as he wanted to protest his strength, his legs were still in pain. He accepted the mercy with thanks. The day had been… fine. Col was okay. Master didn’t seem angry at him yet, and Vik had kindly ignored him, and Col was still owned. Maybe I can do this, he thought to himself foolishly.  Just for a bit longer. Then when this all ends, I’ll be ready.

-

taglist part 1:

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captain-seconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonwardsworld @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @the-monarch-whumperfly @penny-for-your-whump @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread @vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate @littlespacecastle @haro-whumps @extrabitterbrain @neverthelass @downrivergirl914

[pippin-katz]

Like A Love Song

Pairing: M/M | Crossover Ship - Marco Peña/Johnnie Blackwell Media: The Kissing Booth 2 (2020), High Strung (2016) Rating: T (for language) Word Count: 2,098

Marco is having a shitty day and goes to the park with his guitar to relax, but ends up having an interesting interaction with the attractive violinist who plays at the same spot.

A/N: I literally wrote this in a fit of inspiration and need for a romcom short story, but it came out pretty nice, so I thought I'd share here! Enjoy!

As the subway slowed to a stop, Marco lifted his wrist up to read his watch. He read 1:26 and heaved out a heavy sigh as he stepped off the subway car onto the platform. His guitar bounced against his back as he made his way up the stairs. The breeze greeted him by playing with the dark curls resting on his forehead, but the sun was nowhere to be found. It seems that it was aware of Marco’s melancholy mood and opted to spend the day behind the clouds in solidarity.

His day had been unpleasant since he woke up twenty minutes late that morning. In his haste to catch the bus to campus and make it to class on time, he hadn’t been able to brew himself a cup of coffee and forgot to put his laptop back into his bag after studying the night before. He ended up being forced to take notes by hand, leaving it cramping and sore afterwards, as well as giving him a wicked headache. Such pain had been a hindrance to practicing for his thesis performance in the following class.

Music and migraines don’t mix well. After only an hour, his professor had noticed his lack of progress and given him a pitying look. Marco couldn’t remember the last time he felt so embarrassed as they suggested he take the rest of the day off.

He had taken the advice, intending to purchase lunch from his favorite food court restaurant, only to discover that it was closed for some reason. He’d settled for a lackluster protein bar from the vending machine.

That’s what led up to where he was now, begrudgingly exiting the subway station. As silly as it was, all the obstacles and inconveniences caused a lump to form in his throat and heat to prickle behind his eyes. Marco was disappointed, exhausted, and hungry, and all he wanted to do was relax, even if it was only for a few hours.

Despite the lack of sun, it was pleasant outside. The subway station he’d gotten off at was next to a park that he often visited when he needed fresh air. Sometimes he brought his guitar with him and played whatever he wanted, not caring about anything, and letting the music take him wherever it led. If he was lucky, occasionally someone would drop some change or bills into his open guitar case. He didn’t play for tips but being a college student with a major in music, he never turned them down. Overall, it was an enjoyable experience.

There was only one problem: Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy.

He was exactly what he sounded like. He was tall and pale, with dark hair that swooped down to fall just barely over his eyes. His lips were full and looked absurdly soft. He always wore casual alternative clothing that was typically topped off with the leather jacket his nickname implied. The final piece was, of course, the aforementioned violin. It was a dark brown that looked nearly black, and though Marco was certainly no violin expert, he could tell it was one of high quality; it was definitely not bought from an everyday music store. He was good, really good. The sound that came from it was richer than any other he’d heard. Every note seemed to sing with emotion.

Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy was stunning, incredibly skilled, and Marco fucking hated him. Well… sort of.

There was no logical reason for it. Despite making eye contact a few times, they’d never spoken to each other. It wasn’t as though Violin Guy had done anything to warrant his hatred. All he did was stand in the same spot every day, look unfairly beautiful, and play the violin. Maybe that was all he needed to do for Marco to dislike him; maybe if he stopped and thought about it for a few minutes, he’d be able to chalk it up to projecting his own insecurities onto the handsome stranger.

However, on this particularly shitty day, he couldn’t care less. Marco was not someone who asked for much. He didn’t find himself asking some divine power for favors regularly, but today all he wanted was for Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy to not be at the park.

Luck was not on his side, as should have been evident to him from the events of the day leading up into this moment. Marco trudged along the sidewalk to his favorite spot in the park; it was a coincidence that it was the same place Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy played. There was a small fountain with tables around it. The concrete turned into pretty tiles, making it look like a little plaza. It was by far the best part of the park in his opinion, and he wasn’t going to let some brooding violinist with a pretty face ruin that for him.

That was his thought process as he approached the fountain. The soft sound of running water was accompanied by the telltale notes of the violin, allowing him to hear the other man’s presence before he could see him. Marco rounded the fountain and was greeted with the visual of the violinist; he pointedly refused to acknowledge if his heart sped up.

As usual, Violin Guy was wearing some ripped black jeans, a band t-shirt, and his signature leather jacket. His eyes were closed as he let his bow glide across the strings, and there was a barely noticeable sway in his body as he played.

Marco recognized another musician with true passion for their craft easily, which only made him more annoyed. It was harder to justify his distaste for the guy when he shared a musical soul. He sighed as he shook his head and wandered over to sit under a tree.

Marco’s hands were still a bit sore from class that morning, but it wasn’t unbearable, and he wasn’t planning to play anything difficult. He methodically removed his guitar from his back and set the case down in front of himself. He moved slowly as he unzipped it, retrieving the instrument.

The guitar’s wood was familiar and smooth under his fingertips. Its cool surface was soothing. He plucked a few notes experimentally, adjusting the tightness of the strings to find the perfect pitches. Once everything was properly tuned and prepared, Marco closed his eyes and exhaled.

Stress and anxiety had been clinging to him all day like a soaking wet blanket, weighing him down and sticking to him uncomfortably, but when he focused on the cool breeze on his skin and the sounds of nature around him, it slowly melted away. His fingers moved on their own as he strummed and plucked whatever notes called to him. He let his melancholy mood move his music rather than forced himself to play something more upbeat; fighting negative emotion was a waste of time. The improvised melody reflected his mental state perfectly.

Marco sighed as he paused at the end of a phrase, feeling as blue as the cloudy sky overhead. It really had not been a good day.

That’s when he heard the melody echoing back to him through the voice of the violin a few feet away. Marco looked up from his seat on the grass, eyes landing on the Violin Guy, who was standing a little closer than he had been before.

Instinctively, Marco scowled. What? Did this guy think he was better than him? Was he playing the same tune just to demonstrate how much lovelier it sounded when he played it?

As Violin Guy played, he glanced his way, making deliberate eye contact. Marco felt himself freeze under his gaze, unable to look away as he listened to solemn notes come from the other man’s instrument. He captured the same sadness that Marco had originally played with, but then he added to the tune. When he listened very closely, he could hear an almost questioning tone underlying some of the notes.

The man met his gaze again as he paused, his expression neutral but eyes expectant. Tingles ran up and down his spine; it was a question. Marco looked down at the guitar in his hands. He debated for a moment. For some reason, Violin Guy had noticed his negative mood and chose to approach him, speaking a musical language that only they understood. Marco didn’t know why he was doing this, but he would be lying if he wasn’t curious about the man. This was his opportunity. He poised his fingers to answer.

He licked his lips as he concentrated, plucking out a slightly different melody. His disappointment and exhaustion bled into the music. Marco closed his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as he felt it all flow through the guitar. When he finished the phrase, he turned his head toward the violinist.

Violin Guy gave him a tiny nod, so small that Marco wasn’t sure if it was a nod at all. Then he raised his bow to the strings once more and spoke back. A series of notes floated through the air. They were soft, maintaining a somewhat melancholy feeling, but there was a twist in them. It was something hopeful and kind that made Marco’s chest expand and his eyes grow hot. Against all odds, his lips quirked up just a little bit as he listened to the sweet sound of the violin.

He met the man’s eyes again, his own widening as he received a small smile in return; he didn’t think he had ever seen Violin Guy smile before. He nodded down to the guitar as he continued to play, the tune becoming more hopeful as he continued. It was an invitation.

Marco felt his throat close up as his cheeks warmed, but despite the nerves, he began to play along. He was hesitant at first, but the two instruments blended beautifully as they performed their impromptu duet. There was so much feeling and personality in each sound, but somehow, they came together in just the right ways to create a masterful melody. Marco’s lips grew into a true smile as the frustrations of the day left his mind. His playing grew livelier, brighter, and by the time they finished their little song, he couldn’t even remember why he was so upset to begin with.  

He beamed at the violinist as he lowered his guitar back into his lap, and the other man looked down bashfully, nervously tapping his thigh with his bow. Then he straightened his posture and stuck his chin out a bit. He made eye contact with Marco and walked directly up to him without pausing.

Marco’s eyes widened as he was offered a hand. Uncertainly, he tried to meet him in a handshake, but the violinist grabbed his wrist instead, making him gasp. He tucked his violin under his arm and fished into the pocket of his leather jacket. Marco found himself unable to speak as he pulled out a pen. He opened it with his teeth and quickly scribbled onto his skin.

When he finished, he released Marco’s hand and cleared his throat. His pale cheeks had grown quite red. He opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. He closed it, and instead nodded to him before turning to walk away, pretending as though he was unbothered when the opposite was obvious. Marco blinked rapidly, frozen for a moment. His skin still tingled from the other man’s touch. He looked down at the writing, his heart leaping as he recognized a phone number.

There was also a note underneath the digits. His cheeks flushed with heat as he grinned shyly to himself. The man had written: “I hear music when you smile. – Johnnie”

Marco looked up to see the violinist, Johnnie, with his violin packed away and posed to leave. He rubbed the back of his neck, figure tense as he kept glancing between him and the ground. Marco flashed him his most dazzling smile, and the tension in his shoulders disappeared as relief washed over his expression. He raised his hand to give him a small wave as he began to walk away. Marco returned it enthusiastically and watched with his grin still in place as he left.

Once Johnnie was gone, he ghosted his fingertips over the ink on his wrist. He pulled out his phone and created a new contact with the number. Marco inputted his name but tapped to add a note. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he typed: Hot Leather Jacket Violin Guy <3

[weixuldo]

Enigma// ch 22

anakin x reader

a/n: ok big news in this chapter….ngl it’s kinda long and wordy, but i wanted it to b that way- hopefully it’s not too hard to understand eeek- i also just wanna thank all of u for reading :)

it’s time to go home, but is it even home anymore?

warnings: cursing, alcohol abuse, hospitals, self hatred, depressive thoughts, existential news

_______________________________

Anakin was finally being released from the hospital today and everyone was relieved. Though as the week progressed he became increasingly hostile with the staff. 

He was just ready to be home and be alone (relatively). 

Earlier in the week you had explained everything to him- what you felt, what you expected, and what you wanted to make this work.

Surprisingly he was quite compliant with your wishes which gave you great relief- you really did want him to better himself. 

His desire to be with you was insanely strong and he made sure you were serious when you said you would allow him back into your life several times.

He wasn’t going to mess up this time. 

Over the rest of the time there the two of you spent more time together having actual conversations and even laughing with each other again.

He was far sweeter to you and everything seemed to be going well; though he did need to work on how he treated others. 

For example…Today he was throwing a fit because he finally noticed his prosthetics weren’t in the room. 

“Where the fuck are my legs, its been a week, I want them back” he barked at one of the nurses who only came in to change his catheter. 

“Ben took them back to your place, he said you wouldn’t be needing them anytime soon and plus he didn’t want you to overexert yourself by attempting to walk around.” you interjected before the nurse could explain. 

She nodded at your explanation,

“What about my arms? Or would that be too much too?” he rudely remarked. 

“We have had to administer you lots of IV fluids, so your arms are pretty bruised from the needles. It would not be the most pleasant experience to wear your prosthetics at this moment-”

“But I can wear them?” he confirmed.

“Well, yes. But-”

“Anakin,” you snapped.

He turned his towards you to see you eyes glaring with warning as if to say “give it a rest”.

He sighed and left the topic alone, “nevermind, just do what you have to do”. 

The nurse finished up her duties and not long after the primary doctor that had been checking up on Anakin the last few days came in before the discharge.

“Good morning Mr. Skywalker, I bet you’re ready to go home” she greeted. 

“You have no idea,” Anakin responded. 

“Alright, I’ll try to get you out of here as quickly as I can- but before you go, some of your labs came back this morning and…we have some unfortunate news” the doctor with the clipboard in her hand said solemnly. 

“What is it?” Anakin asked, his excitement for going home subsiding momentarily. 

“There is no treatment we could give to postpone the process… but we just wanted to let you k-“

“what is it” Anakin demanded.

“Your liver is failing”

Your stomach dropped.

“it’s fatal”

You let a small, “What?” slip and the doctor diverted her attention towards you. 

“Yes, unfortunately there is nothing we can do other than put him on the donors list, but that is not a guarantee…”

You wanted to ask if there was anything else that you could do to slow the process, when Anakin asked;

“How long?”

“Well the list is quite long, bu-”

Anakin shook his head, “no- how long do I have?”

You could feel your heart racing… No.

Anakin couldn’t… This couldn’t be happening. 

You walked over to the small couch in the room and sat down- Anakin looked over to you with a worried look. 

“Are you alright, mam?” she asked, ready to intervene if there was an issue. 

“Yea, I’m fine” you assured, but Anakin wasn’t quite sold.

“y/n…” he called with a concerned expression.

In return you nodded, “I’m ok, Anakin, truly”.

You saw him glance down at your small bump before focusing his gaze back to the woman in the white coat. 

“Well, as you were asking earlier, it's really anywhere between 5 months to 2 years; it's really different for each case”.

“Is it almost guaranteed I will make it at least four more months?” Anakin asked. 

The doctor nodded, “most likely, if you maintain a healthy lifestyle and follow the prescribed orders, you should be just fine ‘til then''.

“Alright” Anakin sighed before looking over to you, “I just want to make sure I’ll be around to see our baby”. 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly; that was the first time he had ever referred to the child inside of you as “our”... plural.

Him and you.

This was his child and he was finally accepting it.

As much as that made your heart happy, he still needed to prove that he could be mature, show growth, and apologize for everything he had done… and you meant everything. 

“Of course Mr. Skywalker, just follow the hospital’s instructions and you should be able to meet your little one” the doctor gave a small smile before heading for the door. 

“Once again, I’m sorry that I had to be the bearer of bad news…and bad news so late… I wish the two of you the best”.

Soon, it was just you and Anakin again; the silence was deafening… Anakin was dying and he finally admitted that he was having a baby with you.

What were you going to do?

_________________________

The next few days were quite slow; you had been staying with Anakin to help him with anything he needed, but since he the news about his liver , he really hadn’t gotten out of bed. 

It seemed as if all of his desire to be (frustratingly) independent went out the window. 

He was definitely depressed. 

You really were only there to give him his medications, wash, use the restroom, and to prepare food for him. Other than those minimal tasks, you had nothing to do but worry about Anakin. 

He was uncharacteristically quiet; it wasn’t like he talked alot before, but he would at least make a quip or even complain about something…but he was giving you nothing.

You worried about what was going on inside his head- Ben had told you Anakin struggled with issues of self worth and unhealthy thoughts when he was feeling down.

Today was no different, you had helped him transfer to his chair so he could at least get out of his stuffy room for a moment while you tidied up, dusted, and changed the sheets. 

You came back out to start making lunch and saw that he had put on his arms when you weren’t watching- not that you wouldn’t have helped him. You sighed and chose to not address it (better to pick your battles). 

Anakin sat uncomfortably as you prepared lunch in the small kitchen; his arms were rubbing on his bruised stumps and the weight was making his arms ache. He should have just left them off. 

You set a plate in front of him before you went back to the kitchen to grab some of his medications. 

“I'll be back- I’m going to finish up in your room, alright?” you said; only eliciting a small hum from the man. 

He sat emotionlessly at the kitchen table with an untouched turkey sandwich. He was having difficulty grappling with his mortality and felt even worse because you were cooped up in his small ass apartment having to help him with everything. 

Once you finished in his room he asked to be taken back. You stole a glance at his plate still full of food. 

“Anakin, you have to eat” you sighed tiredly. 

“I’m not hungr-”

“Anakin you’ve said that the past three meals- you need to eat” 

He looked up at you; your head was in your hand and you massaged your temple with closed eyes. He was causing you distress- just like always…

“Sorry” he said quietly as he bit into the sandwich; he was going to finish this thing for you. He needed to try… for you.  

You thanked him for eating and followed him back to his room to help him back into bed. Before you could leave again, he asked for you to join him; just to have a moment off of your feet.

Of course you obliged 

It was an odd feeling being next to him again… you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you relaxed together at the house. It had to have been before the fight. 

Not long after you laid down, you couldn't help but cuddle up to him. It had been so long since you felt his comforting warmth- you missed it. 

For the first time in weeks you felt like the two of you may be able to be ok again. No matter Anakin’s health complications, you still wanted things between you to be restored to how they were (at least relatively). 

Maybe his liver complications were contributing to your desire to make amends- if something happened, you would have ended on bad terms (or at-least not on the terms you wanted).

His sadly apparent mortality was weighing on you; you needed to make sure he felt cared for and loved, if his life was coming to an end…

After around an hour of comfortable silence, he asked if you wanted to go to the living room and put on the TV.

As much as you would rather had stayed there with him, he probably asked to watch something to distract his existential mind. So without protest, you rose to your feet once more and helped him into his chair.

You took a seat in the recliner and he took a perch on the couch; some show he had been watching was on in the background as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. 

Out of nowhere, Anakin spoke;

“I’m gonna fuck up that kid” 

“What?”

“If i even live to see ‘em…I just mess everything up, I don’t want to ruin that kid before they’ve even got a chance…”

“Anakin, you aren’t going to mess up the kid, what are you talking about?” you said, placing your phone down on the end table near the recliner. 

For a few moments Anakin was silent and still; he looked as if he were contemplating something. You debated going over to the couch to take a seat by him, but he began to speak, so you stayed put. 

“Why are you still here?” he asked, not in an accusing way, more like a desperate plea. 

“What do you mean?”

He huffed and turned his head to the side, “After everything that’s happened- everything i’ve done… why do you still stay?”.

Your face fell. 

Yes, he was absolutely awful to you and you shouldn’t blindly forgive him, but you knew why he was the way he was, and you could see his sincerity. It hurt your heart that he felt unworthy of love.

“Anakin…” you said softly, “look at me please?”.

He kept his head turned from you, “I-I cant”.

You sighed and got up to sit beside him on the couch. He flinched when you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I stay because I care for you… I still love you, Ani” you hadn’t said those words in a long time. 

He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Maker, he hated being vulnerable, but he couldn’t help the rush of emotions that took him over when you said those three words.

You heard him sniffle and began to rub his back. It was a hard thing to see; instead of a grown man, he seemed like a scared little boy; the way he tried to close himself off by shielding his body, his silent indications of tears… your heart broke just a little.

He had baggage, a fuck ton of it. But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to be there to help him lighten the load.

You rested your head on his shoulder and stayed like that for a moment trying to think about what you should say; when you finally had something, he had already turned towards you. 

His beautiful blue eyes brimmed with tears ready to fall, he bit his bottom lip, and his brows wavered as he drew them together.

He wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out. You reached out a tender hand to caress his flushed cheek but he backed away and shook his head.

“Ani…” you called. 

“W-Why do you want me?” he choked out.

After he said it his eyes widened and he drew his mouth into a thin line, as if acting like he didn’t say it would mean that he didn’t just vocalize his insecurities. 

“I don’t understand” 

He exhaled and slouched a little before looking at you again, “Why? Out of everyone in the world…..y/n- You could have anyone you wanted- someone whole.”

You knew he was referring to his emotional and physical state. 

“You are young, talented, beautiful, and kind… so incredibly kind. So, why me?”.

You tilted your head to the side with a endearing expression.

“Because I love you”

“I’m pathetic Y/N… I know it’s cliche as fuck for me to say this, but you’re too good for me.” he sniffled.

“People know I'm different, no matter how hard I try to look normal when I walk, or do daily tasks- They can tell I'm not the same. A-and the people who do know me and stick around, like Ben, Satine, Rex, Ahsoka-”

He paused to look at you and his tears spilled over.

“You.”

You knew he just needed to get his emotions out, so you refrained from interrupting him.

“I'm just an absolute asshole to, for no fuckin reason other than the fact that I hate myself and think that I’m just weighing you all down. Fuck! I’ve been weighing Ben and Snipps down since the accident and it only took me, what? Like three weeks? To go and bug you for help”.

He sobbed and rested his forehead in the palm of his mechanical hand. 

“I’m self destructive; I ruin my relationships, I waste everyone’s time and now, my behaviors are catching up with me- with my liver and it's no one's fault but my own. There is no one to blame except for myself, I couldn’t tear myself away from the goddamn bottle and now I'm gonna die from my own actions- not the bomb, not sustained injuries, but from drinking… I’M SO FUCKING STUPID!” he cried. 

“Anakin, you are not. You are human. And as much as I know you hate to admit it, you have emotions.” you finally spoke, as you resumed rubbing his back. 

“I-I can't do anything right-”

“I don’t need you to be perfect; no one is.”

Gently, you brushed a few stray strands of sandy locks out of his face; he still was looking forward at the wall.

“B-but me? Out of everyone-” he questioned with a pleading tone… he truly didn’t understand.

“I didn’t want anyone in the world. I just wanted you”

He pursed his lips into a thin line.

“I still just want you,” you admitted. 

His watery eyes widened as you placed a gentle hand on his damp cheek. 

“You need to be kinder to yourself. Addiction is hard, it's not just something you can will away and it’s not all your fault anakin. It's more complicated than that” you provided some insight to the man in front of you. 

“I-I’m sorry- I’m so sorry” he cried.

You drew him into your chest and the familiar weight of his polycarbonate arms wrapped loosely around your waist. 

“Shh, shh. It’s going to be alright Ani- We’ll all be here for you” you said, alluding to Ben, Ash, Satine, and yourself.

He whimpered as he tried to hold you tighter. 

“Everything is going to be alright…” you repeated, half trying to convince yourself too. 

“Everything is going to be alright…”

***

a/n: alrightyyyy, this one was kinda everywhere- sorry!! i hope the angst isn’t getting too old lmfaooo

taglist : @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana @imarimone12 @fallinlovewithevil @sythe-skywalker

[owlafterhours]

[ac6] pik me

hi im back on my bullshit o7 Modern AU, pre-G5/621, unreliable narratorish, not serious whatsoever, ~850 words

--

They’re down the stairs, and across the square - on the side with the park, the trees casting shadows over the pathway. Two figures are picking their way across and around. A shorter one looking ahead, cane running over the ground, and a taller one with his head down, eyes on his phone.

“You’re gonna crush your drink again.” Volta remarked mildly, and Iguazu took a swig of his cheap beer.

“Fucking freelancer’s parading around, showing off like he’s hot shit.” he complained, cramming three nuggets in his mouth. Whatever he wanted to say next was lost around his chewing, attempt to swallow and subsequent chugging to help him choke it down.

It’s been a week since this started. 

The routine used to be, Raven getting some shopping done before having lunch at the Redguns and then, according to the man himself, going home. Now though - now, he’d wander around the park, wander around the square, wander around the entire shopping village like there wasn’t anything better to do and then finally getting his groceries before leaving, all with this guy hanging off Raven. This stranger. With his hand in the crook of Raven’s arm. His eyes on his phone.

Iguazu was going to chew his hand off.

“You know you can ask him if they’re going out.” Volta said, nudging him on the shoulder with his own can. This time, Iguazu didn’t even need to have food in his mouth to choke. A coughing fit and good thumping on his back later, he turned his glare onto Volta. 

“What do I look like? A gossip rag? Some nosy shithead?” Iguazu hissed, and while Volta didn’t comment on it, he sure did raise the most unimpressed eyebrow. 

It wasn’t like Iguazu followed Raven with his eyes every time he came anywhere near the pub. No, those errands to get some extra lemons if Raven was late (as if Nile would let them run out) or sudden, extremely strange urges to bus the tables near where Raven was seated. All of this? Absolutely normal behaviour.

Just last month, Red had gotten stared down for the rest of his shift. His crime? Daring to be the one to take Raven’s order. He’d not made that mistake since.

When the guy suddenly stopped, forcing Raven to take a step back, Iguazu made a noise. He was showing Raven something on his phone, and Raven was just…looking. Iguazu can’t make out Raven’s expression from the back of his head, but there’s no annoyed twitch in his shoulder, no scowl - not that Iguazu could be sure that he could see that from all the way here.

He remembered the last time he tried to help Raven. Michigan had been all up his business about being better to customers, bitching less, shutting up more and to not piss his friend and his little helper off. So Iguazu had put on his best behaviour and gotten his hand batted away and a squinty little glare for his efforts. 

He’d not bothered since.

From the way Raven was just letting himself be tugged around like a rag doll, how their heads were bent close over the phone - they had to know each other well. 

Iguazu downed the rest of his drink in one long pull and slapped the empty can on the table.

“I wanna ditch.”

“Not if you want to live.”

–

“It's done!” 

Rusty squeezed his arm gently, and Raven took a small step back, looking to his side where Rusty already had the screen of his phone tilted in Raven’s direction. 

A week ago, Rusty had dropped him a message, asking if he would mind helping Ziyi with an event, because Ziyi had sprained her ankle and couldn’t do their evening walk around the block together for a while. Raven had agreed, largely because Ziyi had asked him with a watery voice and Rusty was bribing him with free food. (Also, maybe, Walter had been dropping worried comments about his exercise, or lack thereof.) Since then, it’d become routine to look to whichever side Rusty was walking on to squint at whatever he was showing off. 

“Hey buddy, you want to harvest this one?” Rusty asked, briefly letting go to point at a green blur on his screen, with a now-familiar silver shimmer over it. Without fanfare, Raven reached over to flick it up, and a smaller blur - a colourful muddle more like - jumped onto the screen. Raven leaned in closer, squinting. He could make out some purple and orange in that mess. Maybe a pair of beady, haunted eyes.

“That’s the halloween pikmin we’re missing.” Rusty marvelled. “Ziyi was right! You’re like, a lucky charm for this.”

“…Are we done then?” Raven asked, tentative. He likes helping out. He likes spending time with Rusty. He likes Walter not getting on his case about exercise. 

(He glanced in the general direction of the Redguns. Iguazu and Volta should be on shift today.)

“I think she’ll want us to complete the event, so…another week I think.”

(…maybe he does miss having his lunch breaks to himself, just a little.

Thank you to my friends who told me the ''''most meta'''' way of playing pikmin bloom was to play in pairs so you could have a navigator and a player HAHAHA

Extra thoughts:

Rusty did impress upon Raven that he didn't need to disrupt his schedule for this 'I can just tag along', but Raven thought about him and Iguazu meeting for more than five seconds and decided that wouldn't be the best idea.

Iguazu and Raven's relationship did used to be a lot rockier (largely from Iguazu's side) but it's smoothed out in a way that has Volta hoping that he's on sick leave or something similar when they finally sort themselves out.

Neither Ziyi or Rusty are diehard mobile gamers but in this particular case, it's an excuse to have Raven around more + they….have been a little completionist re: collecting the pikmin…

Rusty and Raven are both very aware of road and pedestrian safety! However, Iguazuvision is convinced that they are not lmao